


Shine Without Fear

by Yavannie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, All The Women Are BAMFs, Asgard, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Female Superheroes, Flimsy Grasp Of Norse Mythology, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Humor, Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, Miðgarðr | Midgard, Relatively Canon Compliant, Role Reversal, Romance, Sexual Content, So many ships, So many tropes, Spoilers, Thor: The Dark World Spoilers, Vanaheimr | Vanaheim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-01-06 12:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 73,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yavannie/pseuds/Yavannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>December 10th, 2014, Stockholm.</em>
</p><p>Jane Foster, Bruce Banner and Tony Stark have been awarded the Nobel Prize in physics and are attending the banquet that follows. If Darcy thought her biggest problem this evening was going to be convincing Thor that the Swedish prince wasn't trying to steal Jane, she was very wrong. When the floor of the ballroom caves in during the dance, the good Dr. Banner loses his temper. In an effort to save Stockholm from a rampant Hulk, Thor attempts to bring the party to Asgard. Unfortunately, a few members of the Avengers become lost en route...</p><p>Centered around Darcy/Loki, this is a multiple PoV tale of adventure and romance where the women play the main parts. Spoilers for all Marvel Universe movies and (to a lesser extent) related comic books. NOTE: As of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, this is now more AU than not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_December 10th, 2014. Stockholm._

The ball gown’s corset-like top half was cutting into the flesh of her back in what Darcy was sure was a most unflattering way. Her neck chafed from the heavy jewelry (some sort of opals, and probably worth more than she had earned in total as Jane’s assistant), her hair was swaying dangerously atop her head each time she turned around, and her glasses kept sliding down on her nose. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and wafted herself with the pamphlet that had been lying on her chair.

“How much longer do you think they’ll be?” she asked Thor, avoiding looking straight at him. In a black tailcoat with his mane of blonde hair swept back into a ponytail he looked... Like a god and a half. At least.

“You would know better than me the customs of Midgardians, Lady Darcy,” he said, “but on Asgard celebrations of noble deeds can go on for days, sometimes weeks.”

“Nobel, not noble. And these are _your_ people, remember?”

Thor’s arrival at Arlanda International Airport last weekend had triggered quite the reaction with the Swedes. They had spent the last couple of years attempting to adjust to the fact that many of the fairy tales they told their children at bedtime were actually, well, based on a true story. The church was in upheaval and the left wing working class were demanding paid leave on Thursdays while the Twitter elite was bending over backwards to try and outdo one another in pretending they couldn’t care less. 

All five Nordic countries were trying to cope with the onslaught of tourists that were suddenly extremely interested in anything from rune stones to rituals from the Viking age, and even though Stockholm was three foot deep in snow and freezing, things had reached boiling point when Thor touched down on the tarmac on Saturday, leaving behind a sizable crack in the heated runway. The passport control procedure had been... interesting, and the last few days had been frantic to say the least. Here, in the Stockholm Concert Hall, they were almost but not quite left in peace. Security was rigorous (not that it needed to be with a demigod, a superhero, a number of S.H.I.E.L.D agents and - she swallowed hard at the thought - her _date_ present), but some of the other guests were downright staring, and in the constant light of the TV cameras, Darcy was sweating profusely.

“Are you okay?” It was Pepper, Tony Stark’s brilliant girlfriend, leaning over from the other side of the imposing Norse legend between them. 

“I’m fine,” said Darcy with a weak smile. “Although I was under the impression saunas came with beer and schnapps, not fancy dress and a bunch of wrinkly old fossils.”

“I could conjure up a breeze if it would ease your discomfort,” said Thor, and Darcy pulled a horrified face. Thor laughed, a deep rumble that practically shook the floor. “A jest, Lady Darcy. You need not worry - I have promised Jane to be on my best behavior tonight.”

She laughed uncertainly and breathed a sigh of relief. One could never be sure with Thor. He had his own ideas of what ‘good behavior’ entailed. A sudden blast of trumpets snapped her attention to the centre stage where a number of important-looking people gracefully entered from the wings to sit down in a row of stuffed chairs. Darcy glanced at Thor who looked unimpressed.

“Who are they?” she whispered to the woman on her left. If Thor didn’t know, then a Russian spy surely would.

“It’s the royal family,” said Natasha Romanov. “The king presents the laureates with their prizes.”

“I take it he’s the balding one.”

Natasha inclined her head. “And the waxy-faced one is queen Silvia.”

“Addicted to botox?”

“It’s not entirely unlikely.”

Darcy scanned the other royals. Aside from the king and queen there was a handsome man in his thirties and two women, the older of them very obviously pregnant. “Who’s the one who’ll be lucky if she makes it through the night without her water breaking?”

“That’s Victoria, the crown princess and heiress to the throne. She’s expecting her second child.”

“Where’s the first one?”

“At home with her father, prince Daniel. He’s on paternity leave.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows. “Progressive.”

Natasha snorted softly. “If you can call having a royal family in the first place progressive.”

The enigmatic redhead leaned back in her chair as if to signal that their conversation was over. Darcy glanced at her. Her gown was black, the bodice made from some sort of lustrous kevlar sprinkled with rhinestones, and the skirts a mass of ruffles and lace. She looked infinitely cooler than Darcy, and not uncomfortable in the slightest. With a sigh, she fanned herself some more and wriggled in her dress, causing the corset to poke her in five or six new places.

The awards ceremony started, and after a glance at the pamphlet Darcy realized that the physics prize was the last one to be presented, slid down a little further in her chair and fiddled with her bracelet, doing her best to keep her eyes open as one greying old man after another was called forward to receive what looked like an oversized chocolate coin from the hands of the king. At least the lectures had been dealt with over the last few days. She’d barely been able to sit through Jane’s. The only event of note came as a security guard sidled up to the younger of the two princesses, spoke a word in her ear and led her out, causing a slight murmur to pass through the crowd.

“What’s happening?” hissed Darcy to Natasha.

The agent held up her hand, then touched her ear as if listening to something. Then, she smiled. “She’s nursing her baby.”

Darcy frowned. “You mean... She’s off _breastfeeding_?” Natasha nodded, then pressed a finger to her lips and winked. Darcy shook her head. “Swedes,” she muttered with a little laugh.

At long last, the master of ceremonies presented the prize they’d all been waiting for, and Darcy sat up a little straighter in her chair as she listened to the melodic intonation and strange accent of the speaker as he first read the rationale in Swedish. After some applause came the same short speech again, this time in English.

“For their ground-breaking discoveries in the field of astrophysics, the Committee this year awards the Noble Prize in physics to Dr. Bruce Banner, Dr. Jane Foster and Dr. Anthony Stark.”

“I didn’t know Stark was a doctor,” said Darcy while applauding.

“He has multiple doctorates, but he doesn't talk about it,” said Natasha Romanov with a smirk. "I guess it spoils the playboy persona."

Jane looked lovely and awkward in her cream gown at the arm of Tony Stark. Darcy could feel Thor shifting next to her and hoped he was able to tell that Tony was trying to keep Jane on her feet rather than steal her off. Her friend looked equal parts dazzled and distraught, and Darcy had to swallow a little lump in her throat as she shuffled across the floor towards the Swedish king to accept her award. _Don’t do a Jennifer Lawrence now,_  she thought, and thankfully nothing untoward happened. Tony looked like a cat in a dairy farm and Bruce seemed calm and collected. Darcy could only hope he’d stay that way through the dinner and the dance.

Once the ceremony was over they were showed to cabs that took them the short ride to the City Hall where the banquet was held. Through the tinted windows she could glimpse Swedes going about their Christmas shopping. Although not half of them were as blonde as she might have expected, they all looked tall, thin and freakishly stylish, pulling off bulky jackets and heavy boots as if the sidewalks of Stockholm were runways and not ice-paved death traps; Darcy had a large bruise on her left buttock to testify to their lethality. Glancing over at Thor where he was sitting, talking quietly with Jane, she glumly suspected that the Aesir might have left one or two pregnant women behind when they’d last walked the Earth. 

At the City Hall they were ushered into a large chamber where a stressed out man with a clipboard went about making sure the laureates were all paired up with the correct partner for the descent into the banquet hall. Darcy hitched her bodice up for the umpteenth time and pushed her way through the crowds towards Bruce Banner, only to find him arm in arm with Pepper Potts.

“The winners traditionally sit with the partners of other winners,” Pepper explained.

Darcy wrinkled her brow and turned to Bruce. “So... I don’t sit with you at the ceremony, or at the table. How exactly am I your date?”

“I needed a name to put on that RSVP,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “Besides, Jane asked me to.”

“And who–”

“Miss Lewis?” She spun around to find the man with the clipboard. “Miss Lewis, please.” He took her arm firmly but gently and led her through the crowd towards...

“Oh, man. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Come on, I’m not that bad,” said Tony Stark, slipping his arm into hers.

“Uh, firstly, yes you are, and secondly I had not planned on having my face all over the tabloids tomorrow morning.” Second only to Thor, Tony Stark was definitely the star of the show tonight.

“Don’t worry kid, it’ll be half your face at best.”

As Tony whisked her towards the stairs leading to the top floor, she looked around for Jane. She spotted her together with a familiar man with a light blue ribbon across his chest. “Is that the Swedish prince with Jane?” she asked.

Tony followed her gaze. “I don’t know. He kind of looks like the guy who plays Legolas, doesn’t he?”

“Uh-huh.” She scanned the room desperately for Thor, then noticed he was standing at the top of the stairs together with a pretty brunette who was tentatively grasping the arm of the demigod, looking starstruck. Thor, however, was staring right past her, down the stairs. “Shit,” she muttered.

“Oh, her I know,” said Tony as they approached the pair. “She used to be a glamour model.”

“Really? How–”

“Don’t ask,” he said through his teeth, smiling, then nodded to the woman as they passed. “Hi, Sofia. Long time no see.” She barely shot him a glance and Tony gave a surprised huff and muttered something inaudible.

“Wait,” said Darcy, disentangled herself from his arm and turned back to grab Thor’s wrist sharply. “Hey.”

He half turned towards her, his eyes never leaving Jane. “No one told me Jane would be seated with a prince.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about it, Goldilocks. Your hammer is most likely bigger than his. Remember your promise not to be an overprotective jealous jerk.”

“That wasn’t what–”

“Trust me, it’s included in being on ones best behavior.”

Reluctantly, Thor allowed himself to be led away by the woman who Darcy could only assume was the prince’s girlfriend. Or perhaps _betrothed_ , seeing as he was royalty. Hurrying after Tony, she felt certain that this evening’s troubles had barely even begun. From the look of Thor’s dinner date, Jane wouldn’t exactly be over the moon about the seating arrangement either.

After the long (and, for someone who wasn’t used to either heels or a floor-length gown, rather frightening) walk down the stairs to the enormous hall where the dinner was held, Darcy found herself seated between Tony and an elderly Swedish gentleman whose name she forgot not two seconds after she had shook his hand. She grabbed the menu card in front of her and eyed it eagerly. 

“I’m starving,” she said to the old man. “You’d think they’d at least put out bread baskets or something. Do you know if the food here is any good?”

“It is acceptable,” said the man in a sing-song Swedish accent that reminded her of Erik. “Often it is already a bit cold, you know. They have to carry it all the way from the kitchen.” He waved his hand indistinctly. 

“Not your first Nobel dinner then, huh?”

The elderly man laughed. “I have been to so many I have lost count.”

Darcy turned her attention to the menu again. Apparently it was set. It was also in French. “Hey,” she said, turning to the old man again. “Do you speak French?”

 

 

The dinner lasted several hours, and once the dessert plates had been cleared away, the guests filed into the ballroom for the dance. Tony had disappeared sometime during the main course (to indignant tutting from the elderly man) and feeling rather lost and alone, Darcy looked around for Jane. 

“Can I have the honor of the first dance?” It was Bruce Banner, stepping into her path and offering his arm. "As your date and everything."

“Sure,” said Darcy, relieved to see a somewhat familiar face. Then she eyed him suspiciously. He looked a bit uncomfortable. “How are you, Dr. Banner?”

“Wishing I’d eaten a bit less,” he said with a grimace. “Don’t worry. Any hint of green will be the pickled herring, nothing else.”

The band started playing a waltz, and Darcy found herself leading as they danced stiffly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not a great dancer,” said Bruce.

“Hey, I’d rather you step on my toes than me on yours,” said Darcy, and the look he gave her in response was less than amused. _Shit. Better smooth that one over quickly_. “That was rude of me. Um, congratulations by the way. Nobel Prize, yay. It’s like the Oscars of science, right?”

“Yeah, that’s not... No. Not really.”

“O-kay then.”

She spent the next couple of minutes avoiding his gaze and trying to scout for her friends. Thor was easy enough to spot, dancing with infuriating grace, his presence dominating the room. His partner was the queen of Sweden, who looked suitably flustered in the arms of the myth come to life. Jane had retreated to the wall with a glass of champagne and appeared to be deep in conversation with - of all people - the elderly man who had been seated with Darcy. Not far away, the Swedish prince and his fiancé were dancing and having a discussion that was, from the look of their strained smiles, not the sort of Talk you’d ideally have at a public event.

Just as the last notes of the waltz rang out, there was a flicker in the chandeliers above, and a loud rumble that made the floor shake. 

“I wasn’t aware Sweden was earthquake country,” said Darcy, grabbing a hold of Bruce’s arm and glancing up to make sure she wasn’t at risk of accidentally adding a 200 pound crystal tiara to her collection of borrowed jewelry. 

“It’s not,” said Bruce. “The nearest tectonic plate boundary is in Iceland.”

The lights went out, leaving only the candles lining the walls to light the room, and there were cries of alarm all through the crowd as the floor shook again, more violently this time. Dr. Banner was pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, muttering to himself.

Darcy gently touched his shoulder. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked.

“Yep,” said Bruce in a short voice.

“Right. No sudden urge to turn into a huge, green–”

“You’re not helping,” he said, shooting her a tired glance.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’ll just...” she jutted a thumb towards Jane who was crouching beside a table. On unsteady legs she ran the short distance. “Hey, wanna get under there?” Jane nodded and they scrambled beneath the tassels of the tablecloth, peeking out at the ensuing panic in the ballroom. 

“What’s going on?” Darcy asked.

“I have no idea, but I’m fairly certain it’s related to _them_.”

Darcy didn’t need to ask who she meant. As the lights flickered back on briefly, she could see Thor and Tony Stark back to back in the middle of the room, the latter flicking his wrists artfully to reveal some sort of glowing contraptions that smoothly settled in his palms. Thor held out his hand and with an imminent crash, Mjölnir came bursting through a wall, causing plaster to rain down over the Swedish royal family who were huddling nearby. Natasha Romanov emerged from a side passage, in the process of ripping the voluminous skirt off her gown, revealing tight black pants, knee-high boots and plenty of weapons.

“Badass,” murmured Darcy, then found herself clinging to Jane as the floor heaved and rolled once more.

“Are you holding up all right?” Tony Stark shouted over his shoulder to Bruce.

“So far so good,” said Dr. Banner in a strained voice.

“Just keep it together, big man. Whatever this is, we’ve got–”

And then, the floor collapsed. Darcy watched as Natasha unbelievably, _impossibly_ , launched herself off the crumbling stones, landing safely right next to her and Jane’s hiding place as the ground opened up, leaving a twenty foot wide, gaping hole in the middle of the room. Tony hovered above the abyss, his palms glowing, but Thor and Bruce were gone. 

“No!” shouted Jane and lunged forward.

Natasha grabbed a hold of her. “Wait,” she said, and moments later Thor emerged, slamming into the ceiling above them and dropping onto the floor.

“Do we have a situation?” asked Tony.

“Yes,” groaned Thor.

“Incoming!” shouted Natasha, peering over the edge of the gaping maw, and there was no mistaking the roar or the flash of green as the Hulk hurled himself up over the edge, tearing out chunks of floor as he went. 

“Come on, come on,” said Darcy, grabbing Jane’s hand, dragging her out from under the table and along the wall. “Let the boys handle this one.”

Natasha followed them like a moving shield, her eyes and guns on the monster who was well on his way to punching another hole in the floor. Thor was hammering uselessly at him with Mjölnir while Tony buzzed around like a bee, trying to get his attention. When he finally turned, it wasn’t them he set his eyes on, but Darcy.

“Well shit,” she said, glancing down on her dress. “I knew red was a bad choice.”

The Hulk roared, leapt, and in the space of a heartbeat he had grabbed a hold of Darcy and swept Natasha and Jane out of the way, sending them flying. 

“Jane!” shouted Darcy and Thor at the same time, and the tightening hold on her waist suddenly mattered very little to Darcy as she watched her friend flail helplessly and fall into the abyss along with Natasha Romanov. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t sigh with relief as she saw Thor and Tony go after them as one. Just before she blacked out, she heard a terrible wail, a wail that seemed to pierce her heart and soul with the wrath and sadness of a thousand years or more. And then, so very distant, the commanding voice of Thor rang out, shouting a single word.

“Heimdall!”


	2. Charades

She couldn’t breathe. She was sucking in air, but her lungs seemed strangely contracted, her chest straining against some forceful bond. She needed to _breathe_. With numb hands she probed at her sore ribs and found... The damned corset. With a groan, she pried her eyes open and looked into liquid gold.

“Darcy Lewis,” said the man kneeling above her. “Welcome to Asgard.”

She allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. The man towering over her was strikingly handsome, the effect of which was only slightly diminished by his ridiculous gilded armor. As Darcy glanced up at the vaulted ceiling above her, the pieces came together. “You’re Heimdall, right?”

The Asgardian inclined his head. “Thor has sent you here.” Something in his voice made it sound almost like a question.

“Thor,” muttered Darcy darkly. “Where is he? Where’s Jane?” Heimdall said nothing. Darcy frowned, opened her mouth to ask him once more, then snapped it shut again and looked around her. The structure that she vaguely remembered Jane calling Heimdall’s Observatory was a huge, intricately constructed brass-and-gold sphere, and through an opening at one end, she could glimpse what she could only assume was the Bifrost bridge. It looked a lot less like the sort of My Little Pony rainbow bridge she’d imagined, and a lot more like a Daft Punk video. This place was easily the most amazing and wondrous thing she had ever seen. Alarmingly enough, however, she and Heimdall appeared to be very alone. 

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

Heimdall didn’t answer immediately, but glanced over her shoulder behind her. She spun around, stared for a second at the naked, unconscious Dr. Banner on the floor a few feet away, then snapped back, cheeks blossoming. 

“Thor commanded me to open the Bifrost, but only the two of you came through.”

Darcy smiled nervously. “I’m sure they can’t be far behind, right?” She studied his face, but it was stony and unmoving. “Right?”

“I must take you before Odin.” 

Heimdall picked up Bruce Banner’s limp form with ease, and Darcy tried looking anywhere but straight at the naked man as she trailed along behind them, hobbling in her heels. There was certainly no lack of things to see. The Observatory was a thing of beauty, and through the round opening in the ceiling she could see a myriad of stars glittering. She was by no means an astrophysicist, but she had spent enough time staring at the night sky with Jane to know that these were no constellations known to Earth. She was so wrapped up in the wonders above her that she didn’t notice the obstacle until she tripped over it, stubbing her toes.

“Ow,” she exclaimed, wavered precariously on one leg, then regained her balance. Looking down she was astonished and at the same time not surprised at all to find Thor’s hammer, standing on its head, firmly planted to the floor. Her foot went warm, then cold, then warm once more and tingling all over, but she barely registered it. “Mjölnir–” the word rolled awkwardly off her tongue, but here on Asgard she would try her best to pronounce it properly “–but no Thor. That can’t be good. That’s not good, right?”

The age-old guardian did not as much as look at her, but she knew a fair bit about Thor’s attachment to his weapon - and the powers that depended on it. _They’re still back on Earth_ , she told herself. _A mere interstellar acid trip away. If they’re not here soon, I’ll be back there. Of course I will be_. She was suddenly acutely aware of the pain in her foot, and with a quiet wince she removed her shoes and hurried after Heimdall on bare feet, limping and hissing. 

The bridge was neither hot nor cold, but it was so very, very long. They had been walking for ages and were not even close to halfway across when she saw riders approaching in the distance. If the eyepatch didn’t give it away, the eight-legged horse certainly did; the leader of the party was Odin. Darcy had no idea of how to greet a god (unless you counted hitting one with a car which, all things considered, hadn’t turned out too bad), but she figured that kneeling was probably a good place to start.

“Heimdall, we have been compromised,” said the Allfather, all but ignoring Darcy. 

“My king, Thor ordered me to open the Bifrost, but I can no longer see him.” Heimdall shifted uneasily. “I can no longer see Midgard, Vanaheim, Alfheim–”

Odin held up a hand to silence him “Asgard is threatened. I have taken measures to ensure...” his voice trailed off and he stared at Bruce Banner as if noticing him for the first time. “Him,” he said, and his horse danced nervously beneath him. “What is _he_ doing here?”

“Thor sent these two Midgardians. I assumed he would follow.”

The Allfather threw Darcy a quick glance before resuming his staring at Dr. Banner. “Take them to the cells,” he commanded. 

Darcy gaped in shock. “Hey, we haven’t done anything! Your son sent us here, it wasn’t our idea!” It was as if she didn’t exist. Neither Odin nor Heimdall deigned to look at her, and she scowled at them as the guards pulled her to her feet and began leading her away. When she glanced over her shoulder she saw Odin wheel his horse around. Then he stopped, speaking a last few words to the golden-eyed guardian.

“Heimdall, I need you on watch, now more than ever. Do not attempt to open the Bifrost. Not under any circumstances.”

“My king, if Thor–”

“Not under _any_ circumstances.”

 

* * *

 

Jane was shivering so violently that she thought her teeth might shatter. She was pacing the length of her cell up and down, up and down. It was precisely five and a half steps across, and the constant turning was making her dizzy. Any tears she might have been wanting to shed she kept to herself for now, trying instead to reason her way out of imprisonment. So far, she wasn’t doing too well. At the sound of a heavy gate swinging open on rusty hinges, she rushed to the door, hauling herself up to the small, barred opening to peek out. She only just caught a glimpse of him, washed in cold blue light, before someone smacked her over the fingers with something blunt, making her cry out in pain and lose her grip, and slip down onto the cold, hard floor.

“Jane!” she heard his voice, and then some shuffling and struggling. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“Thor! I’m freezing to death here, but I’m not hurt, no.”

Someone spoke angrily in an unfamiliar language, and after a series of muffled noises and thumps she heard the sound of another cell door slamming shut with a dreadful ring of finality.

“If you mean to keep her alive, make sure she is warm,” she heard Thor yell. “Her blood runs hot, and she will not survive long here without your aid.”

The laughter from those who had brought him echoed through the dungeon, and as the sounds died down, Jane finally felt tears stinging her eyes. She pulled herself up to the little hatch in her door again and tried to look around. It was no use. All she could see was the narrow cave-like tunnel of the dungeon, the strange torch, flickering with a cold blue flame, and a few other doors.

“I’m going to die here, aren’t I?” she whimpered.

“No, Jane,” said Thor, his voice coming from a cell somewhere to her right, possibly the next one along. “They want us alive, otherwise we would have been dead long ago. They will return.”

“Where are we?” she asked, and suddenly, all the questions she’d been dying to ask for the past few hours bubbled forth. “Why are we here? What the hell happened? Is this Jotunheim? It is, isn’t it? Where did they take you? What do they want? Where is Mjölnir?”

“Yes, this is Jotunheim. We’re in the Járnviđr - the Ironwood - in the halls of Angerboda.”

“Angerboda?” said Jane. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

“She is a powerful sorceress. I believe she is the one who opened the rift to Midgard. I commanded Heimdall to open the Bifrost, thinking to bring the Hulk to Asgard before he could cause any more damage, but something must have gone wrong.”

Jane’s arms were shaking with the effort of holding herself up so she let go, landing with a thud on the floor, then leant against the door. She was so very, very cold. Most of all, she wanted to just lie down and cry, but instead she took a deep breath and began her pacing again. The skirts of her gown swished against the floor, the hem already black with grime and dirt.

“Jane?”

“Yes?”

“Do not fret. I will find a way out of here.”

 

* * *

The cell was a whole lot better than Darcy had expected. It looked more or less like a shop window, and despite feeling a bit like a roughed-up ball gown mannequin, she was more relieved than she cared to admit that this wasn’t your by-the-book cobweb infested dungeon with rats, piss-soaked straw and a bucket to poop in. She had a bed, a table and a chair, a bookshelf, a soft rug and even a screen to dress, bathe and do her business behind. The screen had instantly become her best friend seeing as it hid her from the other cells and, more importantly, the other prisoners.

The still sleeping Bruce Banner had been dressed in weird clothes and placed in the cell opposite hers, and if she peered out from behind her shelter she could see him through the shimmering glass that had appeared seemingly out of thin air once she had been deposited here by the guards. She wasn’t sure, but she thought it was probably electrified. Right now, she was far from desperate enough to try that theory in practice. Instead, she laid down in the empty bathtub behind the screen, trying to make herself as comfortable as possible. After a few minutes of squirming she sat up, reached behind her back and fumbled for the zipper to her dress. With a sigh of pure, uninhibited pleasure she pulled it down, feeling various internal organs slip into their original positions. After another few seconds, she unclasped her bra, pulled it off and tossed it on the floor.

“Sweet Jesus that’s good,” she said and sank back down. Moments later she was soundly asleep.

 

* * *

The problem with Tony Stark, Natasha thought, was that he talked too much. 

No, that was hardly fair. 

The problem with Tony Stark was that he talked _incessantly_. By now, his constant babbling had almost been reduced to a mildly irritating background noise as they walked through the woods. Half of the time he was trying to speak to JARVIS, and in between that he kept making comments on their surroundings.

“You’d think another planet would look, you know, like another planet. Frankly, I’m a bit disappointed. Where are the green skies, the blue-skinned female aliens with dreadlocks, the twin moons? This looks like Montana mixed with rural Japan. I’m not even sure we’re not still on Earth. If you think about it, it’s probably daytime in Japan right now. I’m thinking this is definitely Japan. Central Honshu. Wait, do they have giant caterpillars in Japan? Maybe not then. Are you there, JARVIS?”

She threw him a tired look. “Do you ever shut up? I can barely hear myself think.”

“Funny. I like thinking out loud. It helps me focus, I find. I’ve had some of my best ideas talking to JARVIS. God, I miss him. I need you to be my JARVIS, Nat.”

“That’s Agent Romanov to you.”

“After all we’ve been through?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. For a few seconds, Tony was quiet. She could hear he soft breeze in the pine-like trees, faraway calls of strange birds, and somewhere nearby, the unmistakable bubbling of a brook. Adjusting her course slightly, she followed the sound. Where there was water, there was life. Behind her, Tony drew a breath and Natasha braced herself.

“Are you sure downhills is the best option? What if these aliens all live in the mountains? You know, just because we’re used to one way of life it doesn’t mean people on other planets think the same way. Who knows if there are even people here? Maybe this is an animal only planet. Like a giant zoo with no intelligent life whatsoever. We could live like gods here, Natasha! Hey, I think these woods are thinning. Is that a house over there? I think it’s definitely a house. Does it look a bit Japanese to you? There’s an off chance that this could still be Japan.”

 

* * *

She woke at the light touch on her wrist. A young woman was standing above her, looking concerned, and it took Darcy a second or two to remember where she was. Her foot was pounding dully. _Mjölnir_. The events of the past night came flooding back, and she scrambled to sit up straight, causing her dress to slip down from her chest. The girl stared at her as she fumbled to pull it back up.

“Hello,” said Darcy and reached up to adjust her glasses. “Am I free to go yet? Is Jane here? Or Thor?”

The young woman glanced around, smiled weakly and shook her head. 

“This is ridiculous. We’re friends. I am your friend.”

The girl simply looked at her with something resembling mild pity.

“Who are you anyway?” asked Darcy. “I should probably talk to Odin. Can you tell him I need to talk to him?” 

At this, the girl shrugged, looking doubtful. Darcy gave an exasperated sigh.

“So what now?”

The young woman motioned to a dress-like garment hanging from the screen, then to the taps, then to Darcy.

“All right, you want me to clean up and get changed. To meet Odin, I hope. Thanks. Thanks a bunch. Hey, can you actually talk?” 

The girl nodded, then shook her head. 

“Yes and no. You can talk... But not to me?” 

The girl nodded again, then gave her a little smile before turning around and walking through the wall. Darcy stared at it, the seemingly solid stones glittering ever so slightly where she had disappeared. 

“All right, that’s not normal,” she said after a few seconds of stunned silence. As she attempted to simultaneously cling on to her dress and stand up, she noticed how much her foot still hurt. A glance at it confirmed her worst fears. Three toes were black and red, swollen and throbbing with pain. She’d be lucky if they weren’t broken. Silently cursing Thor and his stupid hammer she climbed out of the tub. She placed her weight on her heel, hobbled over to the wall and reached out to touch it. The stones were smooth, cool and as unyielding as one might expect. She spent a few minutes poking the tiles in different orders, hoping to find some Indiana Jones-like secret combination, then pressed herself flat against the wall, pushing with all her might. No result. 

While she was reluctant to instantly comply with anything her captors demanded, she failed to see what harm washing could do, so her next course of action was to run a bath. After rinsing out the can and a half of hairspray that had been holding her hair in place and soaking away some of the tension in her shoulders, she considered her options when it came to clothing. She had been supplied with clean underwear that resembled silken mini shorts with extra everything (little frills, ribbons and embroidered leaves amongst other things) which were as lusciously comfortable as they were ridiculous looking, and as she yanked on her bra, she looked at the two dresses at her disposal. On the one hand, a loose-fitting, flowing (albeit alien) thing with a beautiful braided belt and intricately carved brass clasps; on the other, a red satin prison she wasn’t entirely certain she’d be able to properly zip up unaided. With a guilty shrug she pulled the Asgardian garment down from the screen. It felt almost water-like as she slipped it over her head. _Don’t get too comfortable now, Darcy_ , she told herself as she tied the belt. 

Finally, she drew a deep breath and stuck her head out from her flimsy shelter. When she saw Bruce Banner sitting cross-legged but awake with his head in his hands on the floor of his cell, her heart leapt. She hurried to the glass as fast as her foot would let her, stopping only inches from it.

“Dr. Banner!” she shouted, but he didn’t move. She supposed she might have known from the silence in here that the prison cells were sound proof. 

It was several minutes before he looked up, and when he did she waved frantically. Dr. Banner stood, looking surprised, and went up to the glass wall and put his hands on it. Nothing happened, so Darcy did the same. It was slightly warm and glittered under her touch, but felt just like a window otherwise. Five yards had never felt more distant she thought as they waved at one another. Bruce motioned at the corridor outside, at his cell, at her, and then shrugged. _Oh. He doesn't know what happened_. She pointed at him, flexed her arms and crouched over, doing her best Hulk impression. Dr. Banner nodded and waved his hand dismissively as if to say ‘yes, I knew that already’, then motioned around him again before shrugging once more.

"Ah, you mean where are we?" said Darcy out loud. "Urgh, I'm terrible at charades. Um..." _Asgard. Ass_... She held up two fingers. Bruce nodded. She held up one finger and mouthed ‘first part’, touched her ear, ‘sounds like’, then turned sideways and pointed at her behind.

"Ass," she said. "Got it? Ass."

Bruce frowned. She held up two fingers again. ‘Second part’. Snapping her heels together she stood to attention, pretending to hold a spear. ‘Guard’.

Dr. Banner shook his head, looking confused. 

"Oh, come on! Ass. Guard. Asgard!" He shrugged and she sighed in frustration. Looking around her, her eyes fell on the desk-like table. She walked up to it, pulled out the drawer and to her surprise found a stack of parchment, a slender quill and an ink horn.

"How convenient,” she said to herself and carried the items over to the glass wall. “I hope this doesn’t mean I’ll get the opportunity to write my memoirs before I get out of here.”

Blotting the parchment severely, she scratched down the word ASGARD in large letters, then held it up to show Bruce. At that, he nodded in understanding, then looked around at his own cell, mimicked writing and shrugged again. She knew what he meant. Although clean, Bruce’s cell was more traditionally fitted with just a thin mattress and - yes - a bucket. He didn’t even have a screen. They spent a few minutes trying to communicate by sign language and the occasional written word by Darcy. He seemed to have even less of a clue as to what had happened, and when she suggested that he transform into the Hulk again to get them out, he shook his head very firmly. She supposed he was right and sighed deeply, tracing sparkly patterns in the glass in front of her. Bruce waved at her to get her attention again, then pointed at himself and slowly mouthed ‘I’m sorry’. They exchanged a smile, and Darcy grabbed the quill again. A few seconds later, Bruce was shaking his head and laughing as she held up the parchment reading WORST DATE EVER.

 

* * *

The black water that was churning some ten feet below them looked freezing cold and Pepper pitied the divers working in these conditions. The hole had been suddenly flooded some four hours earlier, flushing out half the basement floor of the City Hall in the process. She looked up at the collapsed ceiling where snowflakes had begun drifting down from the dark grey sky.

“Does the sun ever rise here?” she asked no one in particular.

“ _The sunrise in Stockholm today is at 8.34 am, Miss Potts_ ,” said a voice in her ear.

“Thank you, JARVIS,” she said drily and glanced down at her watch. Another hour until they had daylight. “Still no sign of him?”

“ _There are still no signs indicating that Mr. Stark is present on Earth, Miss Potts_.”

She had known as much. JARVIS would notify her the second he felt his presence, she knew. 

" _Incoming call from Nick Fury_ ," announced JARVIS calmly in her ear.

"Put him through. Yes?"

" _Agent Hill has just touched down in Stockholm. She should be with you in a few minutes_."

"Thank you Nick."

" _I'll be out there myself as soon as I'm done with the damage control on this end._ " She could hear the weariness in his voice. Barely a month had passed since Rome and she knew he'd been called back from his holiday just two days after he'd left for Antigua. " _Any progress?_ "

Pepper looked down at the hole again. "I have some ideas."

" _But none that you'd like to share at the moment?_ "

She glanced over at the head of SÄPO, Sweden's secret service, who was hovering a few feet away, making little to no effort to conceal his eavesdropping. "Not with my present company, no. I don't suppose you can do anything about that, can you?"

" _As much as I'd love to tell you yes, Potts, you have to consider the fact that they hold us responsible for breaking their City Hall. We don't need a diplomatic crisis with Sweden on top of this._ "

"They're so touchy," she said, walking away from the crack. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the SÄPO head signal to one of his men to follow her. "I mean, this is nothing compared to New York or even Rome..."

" _Don't._ "

"I'm sorry, Nick." She entered the banquet hall and picked her way through the debris, lifting her skirts, trying to avoid stepping on broken glass in her open-toed shoes. A door at the other end of the vast room opened, and she could see a familiar shape in the dim light of the door frame. “She’s here. I’ll speak to you soon.”

Followed by a team of S.H.I.E.L.D agents, Maria Hill met her halfway, handed her a pair of sneakers and waited for her to put them on before walking back to the ballroom. Inevitably, SÄPO gave them trouble.

“You know this isn’t CSI where you can just waltz in and start disrupting our work. This is a crime scene and we don’t need Team America World Police to show up and–”

“Here, here and here,” said Agent Hill, handing the man barring their way a number of important looking dossiers, branded with stamps and seals that made his eyes go wide. “While you make sure those are all in order I don’t suppose you mind if I stop by the ladies’ room?”

“I...” The Swedish agent looked lost for words, and Pepper noticed Hill shooting her a glance.

“I’ll show you,” she said and led her down a side passage. Once inside the tiled, candle-lit restrooms, Agent Hill glanced towards the door, turned on a few taps, then leaned against the wall.

“Had to lose your tail,” she said in a perfunctory voice. “Bring me up to speed.”

“As you know, we’re suspecting involvement from one of the other realms. That scream was certainly otherworldly enough. It may have been that whoever cracked open that floor was looking for Thor, because once he disappeared, the rift closed.”

Agent Hill tapped her finger on the mosaic pattern on the sink next to her. “You’re sure it was a rift?”

“I could see treetops, and unless the Swedes are harboring an underwater forest beneath the City Hall, it was definitely a rift.”

“And now?”

“The divers haven’t been able to find a thing. There’s plenty of rubble to go through though, and the conditions aren’t exactly ideal.”

Maria Hill nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll send for a sub. In the meantime, I want to see it for myself.”

They were let through to the ballroom again without further trouble, and Pepper let Hill and her team assess the scene while she allowed herself a breather. A bad decision, it turned out, as her thoughts immediately turned to Tony. Her heart was soon hammering in her throat at the thought of him lost somewhere in space, in another realm, and without his full suit. _Where are you, you reckless, foolish, brilliant adrenaline junkie? Give me a sign, you selfish son of a–_

“ _Miss Potts, you may be interested to know that you are being watched_.”

Pepper frowned, turning around. “What do you mean, JARVIS?”

“ _Above you, Miss Potts_.”

Turning her gaze to the ruined ceiling, she could just about make out a human shape perched on the edge of the roof, looking down on her. She raised her hand and waved uncertainly. The person pointed right, then disappeared in that direction. Pepper looked around her. The SÄPO agents all seemed occupied trying to keep track of the S.H.I.E.L.D agents, so she ducked into the nearest corridor and through to the next room. It was dark with only the greying light of dawn filtering through the stained glass windows. Peering around she could hardly see a thing, and when a dark shape landed softly on the floor in front of her, she couldn’t help but jump with fright.

“Hello, Potts.”

“Barton, Jesus.” Pepper leaned against the wall, breathing a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here? You’re not assigned to this.”

Agent Clint Barton shrugged. “I have a personal interest in the matter. Besides, I think you’re missing something. Come, join me on the roof.” He gracefully leapt up onto a balcony above them, using a candelabra jutting out from the wall as a footrest. Pepper took the stairs, and once she had reached the half-opened window she assumed he had used as an entrance she found a rope with a small noose on the end. She hauled herself up into the alcove, put a foot through the loop and tugged at the rope. As Barton pulled her up, she shivered in the freezing wind, snow whirling around her. She hoped the morning commuters on the far side of the lake weren’t watching too closely. They’d been able to keep the press in the dark so far, but a woman riding up the wall of the City Hall in a ball gown was likely to catch anyone’s attention.

“I hope this is worth it,” she said as she scrambled over the edge, pulled her jacket tighter around her and followed Agent Barton towards the hole in the roof.

“You tell me, Potts.”

She leaned out over the edge and looked down. “Oh my.” Down in the water she could see something glowing blue very faintly but clearly visible from this distance; a large P-like shape, shimmering dully in the dark green water. “JARVIS are you seeing this?”

“ _Yes, Miss Potts. It appears to be an old Norse rune, pronounced roughly as ‘th’_.”

“I’m going to need everything you can find on this,” she said, then turned to Barton. “And a lift down, if you don’t mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What amazing readers I have! I'm overwhelmed by your kind comments! Let's hope you enjoyed this first proper chapter :) Oh, I should probably mention that I'm not really this fast of a writer - I had most of this written when I posted the prologue, so the next chapter might be a few days.


	3. The Other Prince of Asgard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have found a beta reader in the wonderful [DaemonMeg](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DaemonMeg/pseuds/DaemonMeg), Queen of commas, Goddess of grammar, and weeder of British expressions. I've been known to fiddle with fics _months_ after they've been published, and any mistakes you find are mine and mine only.

“For the love of Gödel, Natasha, my legs are killing me.”

She ignored the whisper, her eyes firmly fixed on the buildings below them. Over the last few hours, several men and women had entered and exited, but not the men or women she was waiting for. A door did not remain guarded without purpose. Smoothly, she shifted her weight from one leg to another where she crouched, then routinely scanned the camp, careful not to look directly into the blazing fire in the center. A few seconds later, Tony Stark sat down next to her, making enough noise to raise Stalin from the dead.

“I say we just go for it,” he said in a hushed voice. “Have a little faith in the aliens. They look like people, right? A little rough around the edges maybe, but hey, they have something we don’t. You know, after that ‘cloudberry explosion’ dessert I never thought I’d be hungry again, but apparently my metabolism works in mysterious ways, and I can definitely smell something roasting down there.”

“Wait,” said Natasha, narrowing her eyes. Something was happening down at the main building. 

“We _have_ been waiting. For several f–”

She snapped her hand up to silence him, then pointed towards the longhouse where the door opened and a number of unfamiliar men stepped out, stiff and weary, stretching their limbs, breathing in the night air.

“A war council,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry?”

“Look,” she said.

Tony leaned forward. “Oh, I see. No, wait, I don’t. What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“Warriors, every one of them. Look at their armor.”

“Yeah, it looks... Sturdy?”

“Better than that of anyone else we’ve seen here. Better than the guards’. They’re leaders. Now look at their weapons.”

“I see swords, mostly.”

“Yes and no. Look again. The scabbards are empty.”

Stark was quiet for a few seconds. “You’re right. So there was a possibility of a disagreement.”

“Yes, and they didn’t want it to come to murder. Like I said, a war council.”

She stood up and made sure her knives were where she wanted them, then unclasped her gun holsters and handed the firearms to Stark.

“Are we going down?”

“I’m going down. You’re covering me. If I’m not back within an hour, you’re on your own.”

Tony for once didn’t argue, and while he somewhat inexpertly made sure the guns were loaded, she slunk away down the hill. 

It was easy enough to get onto the roof of the longhouse unnoticed, but the only straightforward way inside was through one of the two doors, and they were both heavily guarded. There were no windows, and out of the four air holes along the ridge of the roof, thick smoke was billowing. As she wriggled towards the nearest one she cursed silently. She hated going in blind. Still, she knew better than to risk her second most valuable asset. Taking a full breath, she gripped the edges of the narrow opening firmly, shut her eyes, and lowered herself inside. Within seconds, her feet found a thick beam, and she hunched down and clambered along it on all fours until she could feel the air clearing. Carefully avoiding looking at the fire below her, she opened her eyes, found a shadowed spot among the rafters, and scurried over to it on nimble feet.

She assessed the scene below her. There were only two people in the room; a man and a woman, the former sitting by one of the fires and the latter pacing around, her hand wandering to where the hilt of her sword would normally be. Natasha raised her eyebrows in surprise. She knew them both from the S.H.I.E.L.D files following the incident in New Mexico - this was Hogun and Sif, allies of Thor. She relaxed a little. This might be Asgard then, and if not, it was likely one of the friendly realms. It was an amazing stroke of luck really, she thought, then snorted softly at herself. Luck, in her experience, rarely had anything to do with it.

“There is no use in delaying,” Natasha heard Sif say then, and she decided to wait a while longer to reveal herself.

“It is not for us to question the Allfather,” said Hogun, although he sounded less than certain of his own words.

“Is it not? Forgive me friend, but the number of times we have defied him over the years are not easily counted, and yet the times we have been wrong in doing so certainly are.”

“You are talking about _war_ , Sif, not a quest for another prized weapon or fending off a band of trolls. A war on Asgard.”

Sif stopped her pacing. “Something is wrong, Hogun,” she said. “My heart tells me so, and I dare you to say your gut does not tell you the same. Why would he shut us out? Would that Thor was here.”

“Thor is guarding Midgard,” said Hogun, “and Asgard can fend for itself.”

“You’re wrong about at least one of those things,” said Natasha and jumped down from the rafters.

Hogun was on his feet before she hit the floor, and Sif fumbled for the blade that wasn’t there. 

Natasha held up her hands. “Steady on,” she said. “I’m a friend of Thor’s.”

Sif cocked her head and looked Natasha up and down. “Are you indeed? And a mortal, no less. What is this obscene fascination with Midgardian women, I wonder?”

In three long strides Sif closed the distance between them, then hurled her fist through the air. Natasha leaned away, avoiding the blow, but there was no denying that the Asgardian was fast. _Superbly agile._ _Superhuman strength_ , she thought, recalling the report in the dossier. She leapt aside as Sif aimed a high kick at her head. _Highly proficient with a spear_. Natasha found herself backing up against the wall and at the last minute ducked away from another right-hand swing. _No stranger to hand-to-hand combat. You don’t say, Coulson_ , she thought as the warrior punched her fist through the wall, giving Natasha a second to dance away.

“Hear me out, Sif. We’re on the same team.” She glanced around her and to her relief found that Hogun stood leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. It stung a bit, but Natasha had to admit that the two of them would have been too much to handle. 

“Has he tired of the other one then?” said Sif, coming towards her once more. “Or did he perchance roll over and crush her in his sleep? You at least have a bit of flesh on you. Still, only a _mortal_.” As she spat out the last word, Sif whirled around in a sweeping roundhouse kick, and Natasha jumped aside again, this time kicking off the wall and swiftly pulling herself back up into the rafters.

“Come now, sister,” she said, looking down at Sif. “Fighting over a guy is hardly ever worth it. Besides, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

With an angry half-growl, Sif leapt, clasping her arms about the beam where she crouched, and Natasha quickly skipped to the next one along as the Asgardian warrior brought the wooden pole down with her in a rain of splinters.

“Are you going to hear me out now, or are you intent on tearing down the house first?” said Natasha, looking down on the other woman who was sprawled on the floor, spitting wood-chips.

“Calm yourself, Sif.” It was Hogun, detaching himself from the wall, throwing Natasha a curious look before offering his hand to his friend and pulling her to her feet.

“Good call,” said Natasha. “First of all, I have no interest in Thor. He is an ally, no more. I might even go so far as call him a friend, but _Gospodi_ , he’s so old-fashioned.” Sif glared at her, but made no move to go after her again, so Natasha continued. “Thor is most likely not on Earth at all. I have reason to believe he’s in trouble, and while I’m here purely by accident, it seems to me that we’d be better off working together. Like I said, we’re on the same team. Agreed?”

With her jaw clenched tight, Sif nodded once, and Natasha gracefully dropped to the floor once more. 

“Now then. What’s this about a war on Asgard?”

 

* * *

 

One second she was alone and the next, the young woman was in the cell with her. Darcy nearly screamed with fright when she turned around at the slight noise to find her there, still smiling that same uncertain smile, her long, dark hair in a braid coiled around her head.

“What the hell,” she said, clasping a hand across her chest. “Please don’t sneak up on me like that.” Her eyes fell on the tray the girl was holding. There was bread, cheese and water on it, and she quickly became aware of the fact that the banquet in the City Hall felt not only a world, but a lifetime away. She got to her feet clumsily and limped towards the food. The girl frowned and pointed at Darcy’s legs.

“Oh yeah,” said Darcy and pulled the skirts of her dress up to reveal her bruised toes. “I ran into Mjölnir. Literally.” 

The girl turned away to hide a giggle.

“It’s okay, you can laugh. If I wasn’t able to laugh at some of the stupid shit I do, I don’t know–” she paused as the girl knelt down, put the tray on the floor, and grabbed her foot gently. 

“What are you doing?” asked Darcy, suddenly wary, and then she felt a pleasant warmth spread through her toes. Seconds later, the pain was gone and her foot looked perfectly normal with no sign of swelling or bruising at all. Astonished, Darcy slumped down and grabbed it to inspect it closer. With a trembling finger she stroked her middle toe. 

She had been fifteen and had mixed three types of Scotch from her parents’ liquor cabinet, carefully noting how much she stole from each bottle and filling them back up with water. Her dad had been more angry with her for that than anything else. Jacob’s parents had been away, and it had been her very first house party. She’d been drunk as a skunk and running barefoot on the lawn, never seeing the sprinkler. She had broken her toe, and it had been slightly crooked ever since. Now it was straight again.

“How...?” was all she could manage, but the girl put a finger to her lips and shook her head, then turned and left through the wall again, leaving Darcy with another item to add to her ever-growing list of things she needed to find out about Asgardians.

Now that her foot was no longer hurting there was little Darcy was lacking, considering her predicament. She hauled the screen to hide the bed when she wanted to rest, and back again when nature called. Not wanting to leave too much evidence of their interactions on paper, she held painstaking so-called conversations with Dr. Banner using sign language. She leafed through the books in the shelf, finding none written in any language that she could read but plenty of amazing illustrations to look at. She ate. Oh yes, she was being given real food now. The second day the silent girl brought her proper meals; platters of strange fruits that were bursting with juice and flavor, cold cut meat so rare it fell apart in her mouth, heady wines that she sipped carefully, and tarts so sweet she near enough moaned out loud at the taste. Bruce Banner, on the other hand, was fed only once daily. Unlike her, he was given dark bread and a grey slop-like stew, and even though he indicated to her that she ought to enjoy herself, she couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty while stuffing her face with the various Asgardian delicacies. 

The next morning, the young woman brought her fresh clothes, and Darcy decided to once more try to get something out of her.

“Thank you for fixing my foot,” she said as she took the dress from her. “Thank you for everything. I feel like I’m more a guest than a prisoner here. Well, apart from the fact that I can’t leave, that is.” She smiled, and the girl smiled back.

As the young woman turned to leave, Darcy gently touched her arm. “Wait. Just tell me something. Am I ever going to, you know, get to go to a trial? A hearing? Something?”

The girl bit her lip and looked around her as if making sure no one was listening. “Soon,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Darcy beamed at her. “So you _can_ talk after all!”

The girl shook her head vigorously with a pleading look in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” said Darcy, then turned the hot water tap and started undoing the clasps of her dress.

The young Asgardian looked at her for a second, then turned around quickly and left through the wall. Darcy had seen it several times now, and so far it hadn’t failed to send shivers down her spine. _Magic_. She had heard so much about Asgard from Jane, and some from Thor as well. While she had known that this was by no means a peaceful paradise, but a realm of warriors, gods, political play, and ongoing wars with other worlds, she had never in her wildest dreams imagined that she would end up a prisoner here. She wondered if she’d be taken to see Odin today, and her stomach lurched nervously at the thought. Unless there were details about his relationship with his dad that Thor had failed to mention, there was definitely something wrong in Asgard.

 

* * *

The furs hadn’t been properly scraped and they stank of the rotting flesh of some animal, but at least Jane was no longer freezing to death. She was merely very, very cold. Before she could suppress it, she drew a sharp breath and sneezed.

“Are you well?” Thor asked for what must have been the fifteenth time since she woke up from her restless sleep.

“I’m fine,” she said through her teeth, intent on not letting him hear them clattering. “Are _you_ well?”

“Of course,” he said in the same confused voice as the last five times she’d thrown his question back at him. “My concern is for you, Jane.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” God, she sounded so _waspish_. She knew he meant well, however infuriating he could be sometimes. “Sorry, it’s the cold. It’s getting on my nerves. You don’t suppose there’s any chance they’ll light a fire if I ask nicely?” 

She heard Thor huff. “There is no fire on Jotunheim.”

That caught her interest. “What do you mean? That fire doesn’t exist here? But the torches...”

“Cold fire is allowed, but _fire_ is not. It is the one weakness of the Jotuns, and Angerboda would never suffer fires to be lit in her halls.”

She recalled the freezing, slippery grasp of the frost giant who had brought her to the cell. “I can’t imagine they’d burn very well,” she said.

“They don’t burn - they melt.”

_Trust the supervillains to have one major flaw_ , she thought and filed away this little tidbit under useful information.

An hour or so later, they came for her. When she first heard the protesting hinges of the rusty gate, she assumed it was Thor they wanted, so when her own door was flung open, she scrambled to her feet in surprise, wrapping the smelly fur tightly around her. Without as much as a word, one of the giants grabbed her, tucking her under his arm as if she was a piece of luggage. 

“Jane!” she heard Thor shout, followed by what sounded like a particularly vigorous attempt to shoulder his way through the door. 

“I’ll be fine!” she ground out, hoping desperately that she was right. 

Up, up, and up they went, Jane bobbing unceremoniously in the tight grip of the Jotun. Once out of the dungeon, they kept going up. Pale blue torches lined the stairwells and corridors, the walls of which glistened darkly. When they passed a corner she reached out and touched the stones and hissed as her fingers burned with the cold. A good while later, after passing through parts of the keep that were clearly inhabited, teeming with frost giants that watched her silently, they seemed to have reached their destination. Jane felt her stomach clench tight with fear as they stopped in front of a huge set of double doors. The Jotun carrying her spoke a few words, and the doors swung open, seemingly of their own accord. The hall they entered was enormous, and once the gate had closed behind them, she was dropped to her feet. She stumbled and fell into a heap on the floor, and harsh hands pulled her upright again. Her heart was hammering hard in her chest now, but even through her mounting panic she couldn’t help but notice the warm, unsteady orange glow coming from the far side of the vast space. She couldn’t make out the source, but in this world of cold and darkness it shone like a beacon, calling out to her. So entranced by the light was she that she didn’t notice Angerboda before she spoke.

“Bring the mortal,” she said, in a voice that reminded her of iron scraped across the crust of hard snow.  

She was shoved forward brusquely, and on shaking legs walked down the hall towards the raised dais where the frost giant queen was seated on a throne fashioned from what looked like black ice. Jane’s eyes flitted to the left where the warm light was flickering softly. She knew that light from somewhere. At the bottom of the steps to the throne, the Jotun who had carried her pushed her to the floor, forcing Jane to kneel. She glanced up at Angerboda, who remained seated. The giantess looked more than twice as tall as Jane, and larger than any of the Jotuns she had seen so far. She seemed to be shrouded in darkness, but as she moved to lean forward, Jane could see that she was wearing a gown of inky feathers that seemed to drink in the dim light from the brazier at her side, rather than reflect it. She was frighteningly beautiful. Her skin was not the blueish gray of the other Jotuns, but fair, making her look every inch a Norse goddess. Her hair was as golden as Thor’s, hanging in two thick braids over her shoulders.

“This one is known as Jane,” said the Jotun behind her.

“A lump of coal, to be crushed and smeared across the floor,” said Angerboda. “Such things have no need for names.”

In spite of the imminent threat of being squashed by the giantess, Jane couldn’t help but glance over to her left again, at the compelling light. What she saw made her breath hitch; it was one of the prototypes of the TDTD she had worked on with Banner and Stark. Mark fifteen, if she was any judge. It had been close to complete, then left to gather dust on a shelf when Stark had his breakthrough with the arc nanoreactor and all their attention had been turned to mark sixteen, the predecessor to their prize-winning and semi-functional dimension ripper. The unsteady flashing indicated that it had been somewhat roughed up. What the hell was it doing here?

“Thor shows his... affection for it quite openly,” said the Jotun, snapping Jane out of her stunned musings.

Angerboda’s mouth twitched. “It may yet be of use to us, then. Gnat!” she barked, turning to Jane. “Where is the prince hiding?”

_Prince?_ She only knew two of those, and as far as she was aware, the only one who might possibly be of interest to a Jotun was still firmly locked in his cell. “Who? Thor?” said Jane, feeling panic surge through her once more.

“Do not waste my time, ashflake. The _other_ prince of Asgard.”

Jane knotted her brow in confusion. “Loki? He’s... He’s dead.” She suddenly remembered that this was his birthplace and quickly added, “I’m sorry, did you know him? I didn’t mean to sound insensitive–”

Angerboda leaned back and looked away with a sigh. “Useless, just as I thought. Take it away and torture it. Perhaps it will help loosen the tongue of the ás.”

“Wait!” said Jane as the Jotun pulled her up again. “That device–” she nodded towards the TDTD, “–is broken.”

“What would you know of it?” said Angerboda, turning back to her.

Jane was thinking quickly now. It was clear that Angerboda believed Loki to be alive, and she decided to go with that, for now. “Are you trying to use it to find Loki?”

Angerboda narrowed her eyes. “So you agree now that he is not dead. Where is he then?”

Jane ignored that. “How did you come by it?”

The giantess scoffed and rose, then started down the stair, her steps shaking the floor. “You think to question me? Here, in my own domain? Vakti, leave this one to me. I will enjoy extinguishing the fickle flame of its life.”

“I can fix it!” Jane burst out. “I can repair your transporter device.”

Angerboda stopped, her eyes flashing in anger. “Give me one reason to believe you, bloodworm.”

“I built that. I know what’s wrong with it. I can build you a better one.”

 

Whether or not Angerboda believed her, Jane had been spared, at least for the moment. Within minutes she was back in her cell, and as soon as she heard the steps of Vakti fading she hauled herself up to the grate in her door.

“Thor,” she said.

“Jane! Are you–”

“I’m _fine_! Listen, Angerboda thinks that Loki is alive and she seems pretty pissed off. Somehow she’s got a hold of TD15 and I’m pretty sure that’s how she ripped through to Stockholm in the first place.” She chewed her lip, wondering how much of this was wise to say out loud, in case anyone was listening. “I’ve agreed to help her repair it.” That much she had admitted to the queen herself.

“I cannot tell you how much I regret that you became involved in this.”

Jane tried looking around for any sign of Jotuns listening, then threw caution to the wind. “She’s deluded, Thor,” she said in a hushed voice. “I think she captured you believing she could get to Loki.”

“I know,” said Thor.

“You knew? Why haven’t you said anything?”

“I saw no need to worry you.”

“ _Worry_ me? As if I could be any more worried! I’m stuck in an ice prison on another world and a woman three times my size has promised she will personally squeeze me to death. What could possibly make me more _worried_?”

“I believe she is right,” said Thor simply.

 

* * *

 

The lean Asgardian man in front of her had grey, thinning hair and wore a permanent frown. The sun had wandered from high in the sky to low on the horizon while she had somewhat truthfully answered the questions he asked her in his monotonous drawl, and now he was leafing through his notes while Darcy glanced around her. As far as interrogation rooms went, she’d seen worse. The view over the city was spectacular, and she’d be comfortable in this chair for at least another few hours if needs be.

“When are you going to let me talk to Odin?” she asked.

The older man snapped his head up from his parchments, his frown deepening even further. “The Allfather has many matters to attend to. Holding an audience for a mortal is not one of them.”

“Not today then?”

“Not ever,” said the man, as he licked his thumb and turned another parchment aside.

“I guess I’m stuck with you then. Do you have a name?”

“Yes.”

“And...?”

“You may call me Leifr. What is his weakness?” The man - Leifr - had a knack for moving from one thing to another without notice.

“Dr. Banner? He doesn’t have one that I’m aware. Wait, I just thought of something. He’s a pretty terrible dancer, so there is that I suppose.”

Leifr stopped scratching at his parchment and with the slightest of sighs crossed out the last couple of words he’d written. “Everyone has a weakness,” he said, a hint of steel creeping into his voice.

“Some of us have more than one,” said Darcy wistfully, not for the first time wishing there was coffee on Asgard. She had asked the silent girl, but she’d only shrugged apologetically. “But in answer to your question... Dr. Banner is socially awkward, has unresolved daddy issues, and has a depressive streak, amongst other things. If the Hulk has one, it’s not one that I know of.”

“And Thor decided to bring the monster here,” said Leifr, the rasping of the quill against paper grating in Darcy’s ears.

“Yes, and he–”

“Simply threw one of the most dangerous creatures in the nine realms into Asgard without warning and without following,” Leifr said in a sharp voice. 

“And Mjölnir? You think he left his most valuable asset in the Observatory by accident?”

“The hammer Mjölnir will only serve Thor as long as he deserves it.”

“Thor is Odin’s son!” said Darcy, feeling her cheeks grow hot with anger. “Why would he want to harm his home? It’s crazy! Just listen to yourself. Odin offered him the throne, and he _declined_.”

“Might be mingling with mortals has softened his mind.”

“I am so done with this shit,” said Darcy, pushed her chair away from the table and crossed her arms over her chest.

Leifr cleared his throat, then turned his parchment over. “During his time on Earth, did Thor ever speak ill of Asgard?”

“Mint Chocolate Chip.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Chunky Monkey.”

Leifr stared at her. “Did you not hear the question?”

“Oh, I heard you. Dublin Mudslide. Rest in peace,” she added mournfully.

“Then what are–”

“I got tired of answering your questions, so now I’m just listing my top five Ben & Jerry’s flavors. Cherry Garcia.”

The Asgardian rose abruptly, shuffling his parchments into a neat pile. “Very amusing, Darcy Lewis of Midgard. Let me remind you that your life depends on your cooperation. While you may be a mere innocent bystander, Thor is not the man - or god - you think him to be. Continuing to protect him will prove most unwise, mark my words.”

Darcy leaned forward, glaring at Leifr. “Cookie Dough.”

 

When she was returned to her cell, Dr. Banner was asleep on his mattress, so she did several frustrated laps of her confinement, attempting to let off some steam. Was the world going insane, or was she? No, she knew Thor. He was the most stubbornly noble person she’d ever met, and she was willing to bet her entire future consumption of chocolate that he had meant to follow them to Asgard.

“Darcy Lewis,” a soft voice behind her said, and she snapped around to find the silent girl. Not so silent anymore, it seemed.

“You’re talking now?”

“You must do as they say,” said the girl, stepping closer with a worried look in her eyes.

“Have they all gone batshit up there?” hissed Darcy, waving her hand angrily.

“Bat...? Listen to me, please. You will be taken before the Allfather tomorrow, and you must not defy him.”

Darcy watched the young woman warily. Her distress seemed genuine, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was the closest thing to an ally she had here. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Please, speaking to you at all is treason. You are his friend. I believe that you are innocent. You and...” her eyes flickered uncertainly. “He _must_ be as well.”

“Dr. Banner?” asked Darcy, confused, and then drew a sharp breath as she realized the girl was talking about Thor. Of course, it only figured that he’d left behind a string of broken hearts when he departed for Earth. “Oh. I see.”

“I have said too much already,” said the girl, wringing her hands in distress. “Please, think about what I have told you.”

Before Darcy could reply, the young woman had hurried through the wall, leaving her head buzzing with a million and one unanswered questions.


	4. Trials and Tricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm overwhelmed by all the lovely comments and the kudos I've been getting! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far and hope that you'll enjoy it in the future as well. Thank you so much, dear readers :)
> 
> Extra special thanks to my fantastic beta [DaemonMeg](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DaemonMeg/pseuds/DaemonMeg) for all her help.

“What’s your name?” asked Darcy, and met the eyes of the young woman in the mirror.

The girl’s hands grew still, and she seemed to hesitate. “Valdís,” she said after a few moments.

“Valdís,” repeated Darcy. “I like it. Very pretty.” 

Valdís continued to deftly work on Darcy’s hair. “I was named after my mother,” she said, but the smile she gave her didn’t quite meet her eyes.

They were in an antechamber to the throne room, and the girl had been given the task of making Darcy look presentable when she appeared before Odin. Apparently, this included extensive braiding.

“Did you know him well?” asked Darcy. “Thor, I mean.”

“No. How could I? I was a simple serving girl. He was a god.” 

“And yet now he’s dating a...” What was the best way of putting this? “A person.” Valdís frowned. _Whoops, brainfart_. “I mean, a human. A regular girl. A mere mortal.” _Yes, better. Sorry, Jane_.

“Whoever he is with, I hope he is happy.”

“He is now,” said Darcy.

Valdís’s eyes flickered to hers in the mirror again. “What do you mean?”

Darcy briefly regretted putting it like that. Then again, what could it hurt telling her? “Well, he spent the best part of his first year mourning. Put Jane under a lot of stress.” _And, by proxy, me_ , she added silently.

“Frigga’s death was a terrible blow to Asgard,” said Valdís. “He had been her son for more than a thousand years. Such a loss is not easily borne.”

“Yeah, I understand about his mom. Of course I do. But Loki?” There was a sudden sharp tug at her hair. “Ow,” she hissed and threw Valdís an irritated glance. The Asgardian girl was staring straight ahead, looking like she’d bitten a lemon.

“Loki,” she said, “was a monster.”

“I know, right?” Darcy shuddered to remember watching the news after the alien invasion in New York, every single channel replaying the same clips over and over again until she’d felt sick. That Thor had somehow found it in his heart to team up with him after that was beyond her. That he grieved for him was even stranger. “I mean, I like Thor, I really do. He’s a great guy. All around awesome, real superhero material. He’s just so very, very naive. He can’t seem to grasp the fact that some people are beyond redemption, that they’re born to be assholes. He’s so freaking _zen_.” She realized Valdís was watching her.

“Odin is not like his son,” she said, her eyes wide and sad. “He will not spare you. Please, just agree to anything he says.”

The gravity of the moment struck Darcy, and she felt a cold lump settle in her belly. “They want me to say that he brought the Hulk here to destroy Asgard. That won’t exactly help Thor.”

“And what will saying anything else achieve? Their minds are made up. Defying Odin now will serve little other than to brand you as his enemy. Do not waste your life, Darcy Lewis. Thor would not have wanted it.” Valdís fastened the last braid with a sliver clasp, then squeezed her shoulder and gave her a little smile. “Stay here until they call for you.”

While Darcy waited, she picked furiously at a chipped nail. There was something fishy about this whole thing. She wished she’d listened a bit more closely when Thor had told Jane about Odin. There were definitely _issues_. After all, Thor had been banished from Asgard at least once, and even though that had seemed more like some kind of twisted, thinly veiled lesson in humility, there was no denying that they were slightly more messed up than your average Scandinavian family. At long last, the door to the throne room opened, and Darcy jerked to attention, ripping the nail in the process. The guard who entered looked at her with disapproval as she sucked the blood from her finger, then motioned at her to follow.

The throne room was vast, gilded, and hung with green tapestries. It was also filled to the brim with Asgardians. Apparently, everyone and their mother, uncle, grandpa and twice-removed cousins had come to see the trial, and as Darcy was marched towards a stool near the dais, she could feel their eyes on her, a murmur rising as she passed their ranks. The throne itself looked like an extremely expensive ornamental helmet gone very wrong, but any quips she may have been wanting to make quickly evaporated as the double doors behind it opened and Odin stepped out. She didn’t need to be told to kneel, and with her heart pounding hard and her eyes downcast, she sank to the floor before the stool.

Odin’s voice, when it came, was surprisingly gentle. “Darcy Lewis, child of Midgard. Sit.”

She did, and though she had expected to be the center of attention, she was in fact left on her seat for a long while as various stories of Thor’s less savory adventures in years past were detailed by one eye-witness after the other. Listening intently, she tried to remember as much as she could to relay to Jane, should she ever see her again. It seemed that Loki wasn’t the only one in the family who had caused a bit of collateral damage in his quest for glory.

“And now he brings this monster into Asgard, fully knowing its powers,” said Odin once the last witness had stepped down. “Midgardian!”

“Yes?” Darcy snapped her head up and looked at the Allfather. She could see then that Valdís had been right. There was little in the way of mercy in his eye, and the spear in his hand suddenly seemed very sharp and menacing. He signaled to her to rise, and she did, her legs shaking somewhat.

“This creature. It has formed an alliance with Thor, is that not so?”

“Yes, but–”

“And as we know, this creature single-handedly laid waste to one of the most populous cities on Midgard. Heimdall tells me that when you arrived, the monster had almost choked you to death. Had it not been stunned into unconsciousness from traveling the Bifrost, you would not be standing here today, child. It is a mindless beast, slaying without remorse, without thought. It cannot be killed, or harmed. And my son...” Odin paused, his jaw clenched in fury. “My son brought it here, knowing full well what it could do.”

Darcy wanted badly to say something, to tell him how wrong he was, but she was in truth nothing here. Less than nothing. A mortal among gods, a twenty-three year old woman against a superhuman who had lived to see millennia. A gnawing doubt grew within her. He knew Thor, probably better than anyone else. _No, Jane knows him. She_ knows _him_.

“Where is my son now, Darcy Lewis of Midgard?”

She frowned. It was Odin who had ordered Heimdall to keep the Bifrost closed, even if Thor attempted to come through. Her eyes flickered to his side, and she suddenly wondered where Mjölnir was. She was pretty sure Odin could wield it should he choose to. He may have chosen _not_ to, that was true, but still... Her head was a mess of thoughts and suspicions, but she had to give an answer. “I don’t know,” she said. At least it was the truth.

The rest of the trial passed in a haze. She answered to everything with one or two words, all while watching Odin intently. When the ordeal was finally over, ending with the inevitable banishment of Thor and the decision to keep the Bifrost and the borders of Asgard closed, she threw him one last look as he retreated behind the throne room again. The walk back to her cell felt like it lasted for miles.

Once the glass had shimmered into place and the guards had left, Darcy waved to Dr. Banner. He motioned a ‘so?’ and she shook her head, indicating that it hadn’t gone well. She chewed her broken nail, causing it to bleed again. How could she possibly explain everything that had gone on in the throne room? How could she even begin to show him? After looking around to make sure no guards were nearby, she went to her desk, pulled out a parchment and wrote THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ODIN. Holding it up to the glass, she waited until she was sure he had read it, and then started tearing it into tiny bits. Dr. Banner shrugged and mouthed ‘what?’, and the only thing she could do was to shrug back while she worked. When she had finished, she gathered all the little scraps in her hands, took them behind the screen, dumped them in the porcelain basin that served as a toilet, and flushed them away with the help of a bucket of water.

Less than an hour later, the guards came to collect her.

 

* * *

“So... Vanaheim? You know, I really should have paid attention during those lectures Thor gave us on the nine magical fairy tale realms, but that stuff never interested me. I’m more of a nuts and bolts kinda guy, if you know what I mean.”

“No.”

“No, I suppose not. Right. Nice place though. Very quaint. Any power outlets here by any chance? AC sockets? Judging from your face, that’s a no. What about phones? Gas lights? Did you get to the wheel yet? Sorry, that’s rude.”

“Does Thor suffer you to speak to him in this way?”

“You know what, he probably does suffer.”

Natasha observed Tony Stark and Sif over her haunch of meat. If he didn’t start watching his mouth, he was soon going to find himself a few teeth short of a grin. Not that she’d mind over much. Hogun was more her type. The silent one. The grim warrior was observing as well, assessing Tony, assessing her where they sat, gathered around the fire in the longhouse.

“How are you planning on getting into Asgard if the Bifrost isn’t working?” she asked him.

“We walk,” said Hogun. 

“Walk?” said Tony, immediately turning his attention to them. “Forgive my ignorance, but in my experience, getting to another planet usually requires something in the way of advanced space technology. Or, failing that, freak wormholes, magic, that type of thing.”

“Vanaheim is another realm, yes, but we are on Asgard,” said Sif. “Without Heimdall’s help, the journey is longer, but by no means impossible.”

“Wait, so we’re on Asgard... And we’re trying to get to Asgard?” asked Stark.

“The city of Asgard,” said Hogun and spat out the bone splinter he’d been using as a toothpick. 

“How far?” asked Natasha.

“Can you ride?” asked Sif.

“No,” said Tony.

“Yes,” said Natasha at the same time. She threw Stark a glance. “You’re a fast learner, I’m sure.”

“A week to the border,” said Hogun.

“That’d be, what, twenty minutes in the suit? Half an hour, tops. God, I miss the suit. It’ll rust by the time we’re back on Earth. Well, no it won’t, since titanium doesn’t rust, but without my TLC... I can only hope Pepper takes good care of it.”

 

* * *

“I’m not getting in that suit unless I absolutely have to.”

“ _Miss Potts, the estimated flight time to Uppsala is three minutes and forty-four seconds. Traveling the same distance by train will take you one hour and twelve minutes including transfer time._ ”

“Good, it’ll give me time to think.”

Pepper took one last look around the suite, hanging up the towel and straightening the bed covers. She folded her last few items of clothing, and then held her ruined gown up to inspect it. With a sigh, she shoved it in the bin before closing her suitcase. Then came a knock on the door, and with a frown she went to answer it. Nick Fury was outside, accompanied by two agents.

“Nick,” she said. “I’m in a bit of a hurry, I’m–”

“On your way to Uppsala, I understand.” She could see him glancing over her shoulder, scanning her hotel room. Mostly by habit, she hoped.

“My train leaves in twenty minutes, so if you’ve got something to say, say it now.”

“I think it’d be a good idea for you to take some time off, Potts. I know you’re under a lot of stress right now, and we’re all agreed that it’s probably for the best if you take a breather.”

She stared at him for a few seconds. “You’re kidding me, right? If you think that taking time off now will help me relax–”

“We have our very best men working on it.”

“You did, until five seconds ago.”

“Pepper...”

“Don’t Pepper me, Nick.” She was close to trembling with rage and was just about to launch into a speech when she saw it. The little shake of his head; minuscule but just about noticeable. Thinking fast, she let the breath she had drawn turn into a sob, and a moment later she was pressed against his chest in a tight hug. 

“It’ll be all right, Potts. I’ve been in touch with Selvig and he’s agreed to follow your line of enquiry, however unlikely it seems. There’s a private jet waiting at Arlanda and I expect your seat to be filled.”

Pepper nodded and managed to produce another couple of sobs and a sniff. “What about the– the– TDTD? Is it safe at the museum?” she asked.

“We’re moving it to a secure location this afternoon. Until then it’s in the hands of SÄPO, but we’ve got it covered. Don’t worry about it.”

Once she had said her tear-filled goodbyes to Nick, she shut the door to the hotel room again and had JARVIS look up the number of Dr. Erik Selvig. It was a long while before he picked up, and when he did, he sounded like she had woken him.

“ _You know I’m not much of a mythologist_. _I’m only doing this because Jane and Darcy are in trouble, and I’d walk through fire for those girls. I’m just not sure how useful I’ll be_.”

“This is your home turf, Dr. Selvig, and I’ll have plenty of use for your expertise in other areas as well. Where do we begin?”

“ _I feel I need to point out again that I remain skeptical..._ ”

“As is your right and duty as a scientist. Although you have to admit the evidence is starting to pile up.”

“ _I know_ ,” said Selvig grudgingly. “ _Very well. Our best bet is the Temple at Uppsala_.”

“Uppsala again?” said Pepper. “I was on my way to talk to a professor at the university there, and now you bring it up. What’s so special about it?”

“ _Nothing. It’s just very old. There’s lots of old..._ ” he hesitated, “. _..magic in the area. I can’t believe I’m saying this. Well, in just over a week, it’s the winter solstice. A lot of old rituals were performed then in the old times._ ”

“The magic is stronger then, presumably?”

“ _I highly doubt it_ ,” said Selvig, sounding more tired than ever.

“Meet me in Uppsala tomorrow, Dr. Selvig. I will send you the details of my whereabouts along with your flight itinerary. Until then, I have some sightseeing left to do in Stockholm.”

After she hung up, she spent a few minutes gazing out at the skies, heavy with snow and a depressing shade of dull grey. She couldn’t remember ever seeing the sun here. “JARVIS?”

“ _Yes Miss Potts?_ ”

“I need you to enter me into the check-in system at Arlanda in, oh I’d say about two hours. And then board me on that jet in another forty-five minutes.”

“ _How many bags will you be carrying?_ ”

“Send all but these to the airport,” she said, setting aside her suitcase of clothes and her purse. After wavering a second, she added a dark green secure briefcase to those she was keeping. “And get me another ticket to Uppsala.”

“ _Miss Potts, if you use the Mark 4 you can still make the 12.50 train_.”

“Stop trying to get me in that damned suit. Book it for tomorrow, and change the reservation on this room to include one more night.”

“ _Yes, Miss Potts. Breakfast?_ ”

“Naturally. And one more thing. Do we know where Agent Barton is?”

“ _Downstairs in the lobby, Miss Potts. I believe he is waiting for you._ ”

“Oh good.”

 

Clint Barton was sitting on the armrest of a sofa just outside the elevators in the lobby, and as soon as Pepper stepped out, he rose and fell into step with her.

“What’s Fury playing at, cutting you off?” he said in a quiet voice.

“His usual games,” said Pepper.

“Oh. Right.” Barton seemed to relax a little.

Pepper stopped and zipped open her purse, soon finding the little package she was looking for. “Are you doing anything special this afternoon, Agent Barton?”

“Nothing I can’t cancel.”

“Good.” She handed him the box. “This is the TD16. Please don’t drop it, it’s invaluable.”

Barton turned it over in his hands, opened the lid and peered down at the device for a moment before closing it again. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“I need you to go to the Nobel museum and get the TD17. And when I say go I mean break into, and when I say get I mean steal. Replace it with that.”

Clint Barton raised an eyebrow. “That place is crawling with SÄPO guys. They’ll be watching the roof. And there’ll be S.H.I.E.L.D agents watching _them_.”

“Is that going to be an issue?”

At that, Barton simply smiled.

 

* * *

 

For a few minutes, Darcy had thought she was walking to her execution. Luckily that wasn’t the case. Instead, she was shown to an apartment in what she assumed was the main part of the palace, and when the guards left her, one of them addressed her as ‘friend of Asgard’. Her new quarters were large and luxurious. The door was barred from the outside and the drop from the balcony could have been ten times shorter and still far enough to make her palms sweaty. Still a prison then, even if this one came with flowing silk curtains and a four poster featherbed. 

She explored every nook and cranny of it, munching a pear from a fruit bowl on a table. The wardrobe was filled with dresses that looked to be her size and the bath was a small pool, filled with steaming water and looking large enough to swim a few strokes in. The selection of wines and funky smelling spirits had to count as a minibar, and it seemed like this place was only a flatscreen TV with cable away from being the closest thing she’d ever come to staying in the Burj Khalifa. 

Not long after she had finished inspecting the room, the lock in the door rattled and Odin stepped inside. She had been lying on the bed, looking at the carved beams that held the drapes in place, and she quickly scrambled to her feet, then remembered herself and knelt on the floor, her legs sinking deep into the soft rug.

“You did well to cooperate, child,” he said, coming to stand before her.

“I don’t know why you wanted me to lie,” she said, heart pounding hard.

“Lie? Did Thor not bring the monster here? Has he not forsaken his own home for the love of a mere mortal? These are not lies, they are simple truths, although for one such as fleeting as you, the implications may be difficult to grasp. Thor was a son of Asgard, and–”

“He’s Odin’s son,” said Darcy, voice shaking slightly. She could hardly believe she was risking her life to get to the bottom of this. If she was wrong... She didn’t want think about it. Pushing her fears firmly aside, she looked up into his eye. “I know he is. And I’m pretty sure Odin knows, too. So the question is, who are you?”

It was a few moments before he spoke. “For a mortal, you are quite perceptive,” he said. The air around him shimmered slightly, and seconds later Odin had vanished. In his place stood another man, younger, leaner, and all too familiar to Darcy. 

“Loki,” she said, the name leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She got to her feet again and backed away from him.

“Not afraid of stating the obvious,” he said, sneering. “Now be a good Midgardian and tell me what happened to Thor.”

Darcy shook her head, unable to fully grasp the situation. Loki was dead. Only clearly, he wasn’t. _Loki_ was Odin. So where was Odin? She doubted very much she wanted to know. Was Loki capable of killing his own father? _His adoptive father_ , she thought to herself, eyes flicking to the halfgod. He’d killed off his biological father already, she recalled with mounting horror. He crossed his arms and shifted impatiently, waiting for a reply. “I already told that Leifr guy everything I know,” she managed.

He stepped towards her, and she resisted the temptation to back away even further. “No, you did not tell me everything,” he said.

“You?” she asked. 

“Not so perceptive after all,” he said, and promptly transformed into the grey interrogator from yesterday.

She went cold, but forced herself to remain calm. “Neat trick,” she said, trying to sound unimpressed. 

“Perhaps you would prefer to open your heart to your friend Valdís?” said the Leifr-Loki, and the air shimmered once more.

Darcy’s mouth was suddenly very dry, and shivers went down her spine as her shy handmaiden appeared before her. 

“Please, just agree to anything he says,” said Valdís, her eyes wide and innocent. A second later she snorted, and all traces of kindness were wiped from her face. With an elegant gesture, Loki magicked his own body back. 

A series of images flashed before Darcy’s eyes. Valdís braiding her hair. Valdís healing her broken toes. Valdís bringing her meals. Of course it had been him all along, winning her over slowly but surely. From that very first moment when he had brought her that dress... Darcy’s train of thought suddenly derailed as she remembered her ball gown slipping down to reveal her chest, how she had begun undressing in front of him. She realized her mouth had dropped open, so she snapped it shut and glared at Loki. Judging from his smirk, he found her reaction amusing.

“You _creep_ ,” she said, trying to regain some of her composure. “How long have you–”

“I will ask the questions here,” Loki said, his voice suddenly hard and cold. “And if you have any sense at all in that underdeveloped brain of yours, you will help me find my incompetent oaf of a brother.”

“Why should I?” she said, her voice sounding far braver than she felt. She could in fact think of a reason or ten herself, including a strong desire to keep her head firmly attached to the rest of her body.

Loki looked away briefly and sighed before giving her a tired look. “Because, I am attempting to save his life.”


	5. Sword, Spear and Shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thrilled at the response I've had on this fic! Extra special thanks as always to my beta, [DaemonMeg](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DaemonMeg/pseuds/DaemonMeg), and also to fuckyeahlokidarcy over on tumblr for recommending this fic. I'm feeling the love for the awesome women of the Avengerverse and hope you keep enjoying the ride.

She woke to the warm rays of the sun on her back. For a few seconds it felt pleasant, the mattress soft and yielding under her hip, the silken pillow smooth against her cheek. Then she tried to open her eyes, and her puffy lids reminded her of last night. Squirming over to the side of the bed, she squinted and fumbled for her glasses, caught a hold of them and put them on. The room was as she remembered it; fine tapestries decorating the walls, beautifully carved furniture, the table covered with a stunning mosaic depicting a tree. This was, quite simply, the prettiest prison in the world. She looked at the chair where Loki had sat when he questioned her, and cringed to recall how much she’d told him. He had been very persuasive. 

A moment later she heard the bar being lifted from the door and the lock rattle, and even though she was still dressed in the flowing gown she had been given for the trial, she pulled the covers up protectively and shuffled backwards on the bed. A guard stepped inside, holding a tray. Presumably, he was bringing her breakfast. Darcy frowned. _A guard?_ He placed the tray on the table without looking at her, then made to leave.

“Hey, Loki.”

The guard paused, sighed, then shimmered slightly. Loki turned to face her. “Yes?”

“Yeah, I’m not entirely stupid. As if you’d let anyone near me now that I know who you are.”

“Not entirely stupid, but idiotic enough to think yourself clever. Well, it was worth a try.” Unbidden, he sat down in a chair, glanced at the tray and snatched up a pomegranate. From somewhere on his person he produced a dagger and swiftly sliced the fruit in two. He held one half out questioningly, but Darcy shook her head, keeping her eyes on the blade while he put it away. Loki shrugged, grabbed a spoon from the tray and started eating.

“Has anyone I’ve actually met _not_ been you?” Darcy asked.

“Oh yes. Up until today, the guards. Heimdall, of course. He’s very curious about you.” 

Darcy had heard a fair bit about the omniscient guardian of the Bifrost, and an idea struck her. “Heimdall? Are you there?” She looked up at the ceiling. “If you’re listening, I’m being held against my will.”

Loki laughed and shook his head. “Heimdall sees what I want him to see.”

“It was worth a try,” said Darcy, echoing Loki, then carefully edged off the bed and went to sit down at the table, making sure to put as much space between him and herself as possible. She looked at the breakfast he had brought. There was bread, looking and smelling as if it had come straight from the oven. There was the strange, tangy yoghurt she knew from the previous mornings, topped with honey and walnuts. There was a slice of that tart with wild strawberries that she’d liked better than any of the others, along with a bowl of cream and plenty of fruit.

“Are you not hungry?” asked Loki, watching her intently. “It’s not poisoned.”

“I know,” said Darcy. If he had wanted her dead there were much simpler ways than fixing up a five star breakfast and spiking it with something. “Why am I here?”

“You’re here because Thor has a seemingly unfailing ability of getting himself into trouble.”

_No, that would be you_ , thought Darcy. “I mean, why am I here, in this room, and not back in the dungeons or dead in a ditch somewhere?” she said.

Loki put the empty half of the pomegranate down, then leaned back in his chair. “Are you not comfortable?”

“Oh, very. You know, if you want to play good cop, bad cop you generally need two cops. What’s the point anyway? I already told you everything I know. Really. If you want to know more about space portals you’d be much better off talking to Banner.”

Loki threw his hands out. “And there you have it. What do you think that creature would do if I tried reasoning with it? Now you, on the other hand, he trusts.”

He had a point, she had to concede. Still, he was unquestionably a master of disguise, free to take on any form. “Why not just go see him as that Leifr? Or why not go as me, for that matter?”

Loki’s gaze wavered then, if only for the briefest of moments. “I don’t know you well enough to impersonate you,” he said. “Besides, I have the real you at my disposal.”

_He’s scared of him_ , Darcy realized. _He’s scared shitless of being trapped with him_. If she was honest, she wasn’t overly fond of the idea herself. “Great,” she said. “What do I get in return?”

He scoffed at that. “You're hardly in a position to make demands. Besides, what good is my word to you? I could tell you that I would send you back to Earth, that I would grant you this favor or that, and in the end you would be happy if I spared you from suffering before ridding myself of you.”

“Tell me what happened to Odin,” said Darcy, doing her best to ignore his threats.

Loki frowned. “What is it to you?”

“Tell me, and I'll talk to Banner.”

It was a long while before he answered. “Very well,” he said. “I will humor you. Come.” He rose and walked to the door. When she didn’t follow, he turned and looked at her. 

“Tell me,” she insisted.

“I said I would,” he said, patiently, as if speaking to a child. “Can you manage to walk and talk at the same time? Then come.”

She got up, slowly, and took a few steps towards him.

“You’ll have to come closer than that,” he said.

“Why?” she asked, then went stiff as Loki shook his head and closed the distance between them in two long strides. Her eyes flickered for a moment to his side, to the place where she guessed the dagger was. 

He glanced down, then held open his coat, showing her the handle. “I’d love to see you try,” he said.

She wanted to lean away, to recoil from him, but she held her ground. He was so close she could smell him; the unexpected, clean scent of soap and a faint hint of something else, something elusive and outdoorsy. She was suddenly aware that she’d slept in her clothes and was in dire need of a shower. Loki raised his hands, and for a second she did lean away, thinking he was going to touch her. Instead, he spread his fingers and pushed at the air. There was a slight whisper, and he shimmered just as he had done when he had disguised himself, only this time the glittering gold was an aura, a shining shell that surrounded him, and as he pushed his hands away, the aura expanded. A second later, the barrier of light slid over Darcy’s arm. It felt almost electric, making her hairs prickle and stand on end. Loki kept pushing until the aura had become a large dome shape that easily covered both of them, and more besides. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the light faded and the dome was gone. She reached out a hand, and sure enough, there it was. Largely invisible, but shimmering slightly under her fingers. She pressed at it, and it felt just like the glass wall in her cell; warm to the touch and completely solid.

“What is this?” she asked, for a moment forgetting to be scared.

“A shield,” said Loki. “Stay near me.”

He started walking, and the shield soon bumped into her shoulder, pushing her along, forcing her to stay a little too close to him for comfort. They stepped out into the hallway, Loki striding ahead without paying any heed to the fact that she almost had to run to keep up. Before long, a couple of women came around a corner up ahead, and Darcy's heart skipped a beat; whether it was from fear or relief she didn’t quite know. However, the Asgardians looked right through them, and what’s more, they drifted apart as Loki and Darcy drew closer, passing on either side of them. She turned around to see them come together again, seemingly without noticing anything.

“We’re invisible,” she said, once more reaching out to feel the shield surrounding them.

“We will pass unnoticed,” said Loki.

They were soon walking through a busier part of the palace, but no matter how crowded the room, men and women alike moved out of their way. 

“Is this how you're hiding me from Heimdall?”

Loki snorted. “For a fixed location such as a room, a simple spell suffices.”

“And Odin? Did a simple spell _suffice_ then? Or did you use one of your glowing sticks of death for that?”

“Your kind,” he said in a voice dripping with contempt. “Always so quick to jump to conclusions.”

“It’s a logical conclusion, though. So, are you saying you didn’t off him?”

“Odin’s role as Allfather had run its course.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. It won’t change what you did.”

“Don’t presume to know me.”

“I don’t have to. I know enough. I know Thor spent the best part of a year crying over you.”

“A year,” said Loki. “I have gone longer without eating. Without _sleeping_.”

“Trust me, it felt like a thousand.”

Loki glared at her, but said nothing.

“You said you’d tell me.”

“So I did, and now you see how far my word goes.”

 

* * *

It wouldn’t be easy without a lab, her equipment and her partners. She wasn’t even sure it was going to work at all, but this wasn’t the time to express those sorts of doubts. Instead, Jane wrote a long list of all the things she needed, and handed it to Vakti. He was back minutes later to inform her that no one knew how to read English. It was probably the Stockholm syndrome hard at work, but Jane found herself not minding Vakti much. Along with Angerboda and a handful of others, he was one of the few Jotuns she could communicate with, and out of him and the queen, he was miles better. 

They had been watching an old Italian movie when Thor had explained to her about Allspeak, and how it was both inherent and magical.

“The only form of magic I have ever truly mastered is one I was born with,” he had said with a laugh.

“Could I learn it?” she had asked, turning to him expectantly.

“Not through studying it. Those who are exceptionally skilled in magic may gift it to others, so no luck there either I’m afraid.” He had chuckled, but then the laughter had seemed to stick in his throat, and he had grown quiet and distant. 

“What’s the matter?” she had asked.

It had been a while before he answered her. “Loki could have done it.”

Angerboda was a powerful sorceress, that much she knew, and she supposed that she had acquired Allspeak somehow and then gifted it to certain Jotuns as well. Jane read out her list to Vakti, who took notes. The next bump in the road was, of course, that half of the items on the list weren’t available on Jotunheim. She soon found herself with several frost giants, young and old, trying to explain the properties of this substance or that, working with them via Vakti to find substitutes. In a frighteningly short amount of time, she was in full swing, half forgetting that she wasn’t back at the Tower with Stark and Banner.

Of course, Angerboda was there to remind her, and this day had started out with Jane being dragged in front of the queen. She sat on her throne, turning the TD15 over in her hands, looking at it as if she might be able to fix it herself if only she stared at it hard enough.

“My subjects tell me you conspire to bring fire within these walls,” she said.

“I have not conspired...”

“Do you know that the very mention of it is punishable by death?”

“I need something hot enough to melt metal. I need to weld.”

“You silly lump of coal,” said Angerboda and rose. The giantess threw her feathered cloak back over her shoulder, revealing a scaled, glittering suit of armor and a huge sword hanging from her hip. With a whisper of steel, she drew it. It was longer than Jane was tall, and she couldn’t help but shrink even further down where she knelt on the floor. 

“Look, ashflake. Have you ever seen a finer blade?”

Jane forced herself to raise her head a little and look at the sword. “N-no,” she said, fervently praying that she wouldn’t feel it against her neck any time soon.

“Frostforged weapons are ten times stronger than any wrought in flame. You think yourself cold now, human, but this is high summer. In winter, the Ironwood grows so cold that steel turns brittle and crumbles. What you require is not more heat, but less of it than you have ever known.” Angerboda turned to Vakti. “Send for the frostsmith.”

Jane said nothing, but cursed silently to herself. She didn’t doubt that the welding could be done this way, but that wasn’t why she had asked for the fire. Time to start working on plan B.

 

* * *

For all that weight and muscle, Sif moved more quietly than one might have expected. Natasha could glimpse the Asgardian warrior some thirty paces off to her right, stalking through the woods on soft feet. The breeze was in their favor, quite brisk and upwind from their prey, singing in the trees to mask what little noise they made. For an hour or more they went on in this fashion, and Natasha relished every second. Eyes and ears focused on the task at hand, she shut out all other thoughts and simply lived the hunt. When at long last she heard the soft click of a branch snapping in front of them, she held up a hand. Sif had already frozen in her step, clearly also aware of the noise. Their eyes met, and the warrior nodded once. Natasha _liked_ Sif.

It was over quickly. While Natasha pulled herself quietly into a tree, Sif moved around the hart in a wide circle and rustled a branch. The animal shot towards Natasha’s hiding place, and it was a simple thing to drop down, clamp her thighs about its back and plunge her dagger into its neck. The deer gave a panicked bleat and kicked furiously as it fell, forcing Natasha to leap aside. Then Sif was there, swiftly sinking her spear into its side, hitting the heart. Their eyes met, and when Sif grinned, Natasha couldn’t help but do the same. The Asgardian grabbed the animal by the legs and hoisted it onto her shoulders, carrying it with ease.

“You are a skilled tracker,” said Sif as they headed towards the camp again.

Natasha smiled. “You could say it’s part of the job description.”

“You hunt for a living?”

“Oh yes. Rarely animals, though.”

Sif threw her a somewhat disapproving glance. “I see. I do not usually hold with assassins, but for you I could make an exception, Lady Romanov.”

“Please, call me Natasha.”

 

It was dark by the time they made it back. Their horses were grazing in a clearing near the camp, and when they passed them, Natasha frowned. There were two horses there that she didn’t recognize.

“We have company,” she said.

“Yes,” said Sif darkly. “I hope they brought their own food.”

When they approached the campfire, Natasha saw that the newcomers were another couple of Thor’s friends. _Volstagg and Fandral_ , she thought, remembering the S.H.I.E.L.D files. Together with Hogun, they were known as The Warriors Three. Each proficient in some weapon or other, they were Asgard’s most feared fighters, having gone with Thor on countless adventures. She supposed they might come in handy. Fandral was busy chatting with Tony while Volstagg was chugging down something from a wineskin. The latter looked up as they stepped into the light

“Sif!” cried the portly warrior. “Is that all you’re bringing? I was hoping to eat my fill tonight.”

“Hunt your own or go hungry,” said Sif, flinging the dead animal in front of the men. 

“He’s always hungry,” said Fandral cheerfully. Then his eyes drifted to Natasha, and his face lit up. He rose and bowed gracefully. “This must be the fair Lady Natasha. Hogun here has told us of your skills in battle, but he failed to mention that your beauty goes unsurpassed in the Nine Realms.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow and looked over at Sif who rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I tried that once,” said Tony lightly. “Didn’t work.”

“To be honest you were a little less eloquent, but sure,” said Natasha.

“I can be eloquent.”

“If that means using more words, then please don’t,” she said, and Tony gasped, pretending to be hurt.

“You have a sharp tongue, Lady Natasha,” said Fandral, stepping closer with a smile. “I like that in a woman.”

“That’s not the only thing I have that’s sharp,” she said, casually putting her hand on the hilt of the dagger at her hip. “And should you feel inclined to address me again, the name is Agent Romanov.”

Fandral smiled easily and took a step back. “As you wish, Lady Agent. A woman needs her space. I respect that.”

At that, Sif snorted. “If you think you are able to keep your hands to yourself for a minute, perhaps make use of them and clean this,” she said, poking the dead hart with her foot.

“Ah, Sif,” said Fandral, grabbing the deer carcass by the hind legs to pull it away from the fire. “One of these nights I will convince you to share my furs and you’ll see then how wrong you’ve been in holding out.”

“Stop bickering and spare a thought for a starving man!”

Natasha left the friends to their banter and went to sit with Tony. He was strangely quiet, and she wondered if he had finally run out of witticisms to hurl her way. 

“Do you reckon we’ll ever get home?” he asked after a while.

She was so surprised at how serious he sounded that it was several moments before she could reply. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. She could see how disheartened he was by that, so she put on her best friendly face and touched his shoulder. “I’m only messing with you. Of course we will.”

“You’re a woman, Romanov. How long would you wait for a man?”

A number of snide remarks were fighting to tumble off her tongue, but she settled for something a little less confrontational. “You should give her more credit than that.”

“I can’t live without her,” he said, clasping his hands behind his neck in frustration. “It’s not even funny anymore. She could go on to become president without me. She could rule the _world_ if she wanted to. And me? I don’t see her for four days and I go insane. How long do you think she’ll wait for me? How long would _you_ wait, Nat?”

She let the pet name slide for once. Her priority now was to make sure he didn’t lose it entirely. “For the right man?” she said. “As long as it takes.”

 

* * *

Topographically, Old Town was Clint’s favorite part of Stockholm so far. Plenty of narrow alleys, the next house along often an easy leap away, and black tin roofs that had been cleared of snow by chimney sweeps during the night. It was easy to hide here, where the houses varied in size and shape, and there were loft apartments and balconies aplenty. Still, it hadn’t been a walk in the park getting to the Nobel Museum unseen. Now he was nestled between two sloping roofs, looking out over Stortorget and the building that was his goal. The two men on the roof he could handle, but the S.H.I.E.L.D agent watching from the clock tower in the church nearby was another matter. Then again, he had expected this.

“Potts,” he said quietly.

“ _Yes?_ ”

“Set ‘em off.”

A few seconds later, the church bells began ringing loudly. Not only did the agent in the tower clasp her hands over her ears and flee, but the SÄPO men turned towards the sound as well. Clint leapt, then took off running. The first man he knocked out with a clean punch, and by the time the second agent had reacted and drawn his gun, Clint had put a tranquilizer in his thigh.

“Sorry,” he muttered, then made his way to the skylight that covered one half of the building. Peering down, he could see the TD17 in its glass container in the middle of the room. Trust these idiots to put it a room with easy access.

“Okay, tell that limey butler of yours to sound the alarm.”

“ _Which part of the building?_ ”

“Back door.”

Once the shrill alarm started, Clint knocked the lock off one of the windows, opened it and glanced down at the security guards. A couple had ran off already, soon followed by all but one who bobbed impatiently and arched his neck to try and see what was going on. Clint anchored a line to a hook on the roof, readied another tranquilizer and lowered himself down. The last guard never even looked his way, and Clint decided to put the arrow in his butt as punishment for a job poorly done.

“ _You got it?_ ”

Clint lifted glass case off, snatched the TD and pocketed it, then put the prototype in its place.

“Easy as pie.”

 

* * *

“I will be watching, and listening.”

By that, he probably meant ‘don’t do anything dumb or I’ll kill you in a painful manner after’. They were standing in front of Dr. Banner’s cell. He was resting, and it felt creepy watching him while hidden under the shield. Darcy firmly tried to push away thoughts of Loki spying on her at some point during her imprisonment. She looked over at him. If she were to guesstimate his interest in her on a scale of non-existent to fascinating, she’d go with ‘mildly irritating stain on fresh shirt’, so perhaps her fears were unfounded. 

“How will I get inside?”

“I will take care of that.”

Just like that, he was gone, and a slight shift in temperature told her that the shield was as well. She hugged herself, suddenly feeling exposed.

“Are you still here?”

“Yes,” came his voice from somewhere to her left. “Try not to upset him, will you? Now get to it.”

There was nothing for it but to obey, so she stepped towards the barrier, and when she reached up to touch it, her hands went straight through. It felt just like when Loki had stretched the shield, and she shivered at the humming sensation that tingled around her wrists, then she quickly stepped inside.

“Dr. Banner,” she said. 

He looked up dazedly from his mattress, then scrambled to his feet. “Darcy! How’d you get in here?”

Without thinking, she walked straight up to him and hugged him tightly. After a second’s hesitation, he returned the embrace, and she felt a sob threatening to catch in her throat. “They need some information,” she said, her voice shaking. Until now, she hadn’t fully realized just how tense she’d been since yesterday. 

As she broke the hug and stepped back, Bruce looked at her with concern. “Are you okay? Have they let you go? What did you mean about–”

“I’m fine!” she said, cutting him off. Loki didn’t need to know that she’d told him that she was suspicious of Odin. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “I’m good. I think they’re trying to work on some sort of way of getting to Thor, but they’ve got questions that I can’t answer.”

Bruce frowned. “What’s going on out there? Who are ‘they’? How–”

Darcy shook her head ever so slightly and glared at him. Banner caught on quickly enough and fell silent. She wondered where Loki was, and if he would dare to go into the cell himself. Hopefully she was right in thinking he wouldn’t. Bruce sat down on his mattress again and motioned to her to join him. Darcy sank down and wrapped her arms around her knees, feeling slightly awkward about the hug they’d shared earlier.

“All right,” he said. “Ask away.”

“Do you remember anything from... You know.” Darcy gestured vaguely, less than eager to actually mention the Hulk by name.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “A little bit. Fragments. Images.”

“So, the people here... They think that maybe there was some kind of portal. Like the ones we got in London.”

Dr. Banner tilted his head and looked at her. “Close enough, I’d say. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and by now I’m pretty positive that someone was using a TD to open a wormhole.”

“Your transdimensional space ripper thing? You mean someone at the party did it?”

“It’s possible, but I don’t think so. Supposedly it was under heavy surveillance, and besides, I think this was from the other side.”

“What other side?”

“Well, the other dimension. Realm. World. Call it what you want.”

“Using your equipment? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know, but the one thing I can remember is the light. I’d know that light anywhere.” Bruce got a faraway look in his eyes. “I remember a forest as well, and landing in snow. It was all cold and blue, except for the light.”

“Do you remember throwing Thor around like a ragdoll and then grabbing me like you were off to scale the Empire State Building?”

He shifted slightly. “No.”

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” she said and put her hand on his knee. He stared at it, and she moved it away again.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said.

“I know. You said before. I know you can’t help it.” They were quiet for a few moments. Darcy cleared her throat. “So, the TD. If you’re so sure, how did it get there?”

Dr. Banner shrugged. “It might have been one of the prototypes. The TD15 went missing at some point, I think. Jane said it was probably her fault at the time, that she thought she’d put it somewhere she would remember, then instantly forgot where. We didn’t think much of it. Maybe someone swiped it? And then it _still_ doesn’t make sense, because it wasn’t even functional.” Bruce buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know, Darcy. I hope that helps. I just want to go home. Being cooped up here, it’s... It’s getting to me.”

Darcy felt a rush of cool air on her arm then, and for a second she thought she could smell Loki.

“I have to go,” she said, and stood up.

“Are you coming back?” asked Bruce.

The cold wind was tugging at her now, and she backed off towards the glass wall. “I hope so. I don’t know.”

She stumbled backwards through the window, and Bruce ran after her, putting his hands on it, but it was clearly as solid as ever. He looked around, beyond her, perhaps trying to see if someone else was there.

“Come on,” she heard Loki say, so close that she flinched. 

Still invisible to her, she felt him grab her by the arm. He led her past the other cells where the prisoners were still asleep by his spells, then rounded the snoring guards at the end of the hallway. Loki ushered her through the gate and around a corner before he stopped and let go of her. A moment later, she felt the shield slip over her skin, and they were in their little bubble once more; hidden from others but in plain sight of one another. He looked a little stressed out, she thought, and felt strangely satisfied.

“Did you get what you were hoping for?” she asked.

“Yes, and no,” he said, clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, I suppose I should explain what a TD is–”

“I know what it is,” he interrupted her.

Darcy raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

“Naturally. I’m the one who stole it.”


	6. The Great Escape

To say that Darcy was apprehensive about getting out of her clothes would be an understatement. Still, after more than twenty-four hours in the same dress _sans_ deodorant and _avec_ stress she was emitting a smell that reminded her of the afternoon rush hour in the London Underground. In the end, she poured an entire glass bottle of some exclusive Asgardian grooming product in the water and splashed it around until she’d worked up a bit of foam that she hoped would hide her from any prying eyes. She gripped the skirts of the gown, then glanced around.

“Loki, if you’re in here, you’re a certified creep, okay? Even more than usual.” 

There was no reply, no sign that anyone else was in the room, so she quickly stripped herself of the dress and her underwear, and sat on the edge of the steaming pool. The water was bordering on scalding, and she hissed with pleasure and discomfort in equal amounts as she gingerly lowered herself down. After a few minutes she had adjusted, and was frolicking around in the spacious, tiled bath, kicking off one end and swimming a few strokes to the other. She wondered if all the guest rooms were this well-equipped. Even here, in the bathroom, there was a full-height window offering a stunning view of the city, and Darcy soon found herself with her arms up on the edge of the pool, looking out across the gilded rooftops as the sun set over Asgard. Most of it was in the immense shade of the palace by now, but far off on the horizon, the last rays of daylight were tinting a snowcapped mountain range pink and orange. It was almost painfully beautiful. And then, she heard the door to her apartment open

“I’m not decent!” she yelled and sank down into the water again, desperately splashing to get some foam going, but the suds had all melted and it was no use. There came a soft laugh from the bedchamber. “Go away!” she shouted.

“I require something of you. You can bathe later.”

She could hear him moving around out there, heard the chink of glass on glass and the sound of a chair being pulled out. There was a silken bathrobe hanging from a hook on the wall, and Darcy quickly heaved herself up and out of the pool, then rushed to wrap it around her dripping body. She glanced at herself in the mirror, straightened her glasses, took a deep breath and stepped out into the room. Loki was sitting in his usual chair with a dagger in his hand and a glass of wine on the table next to him. He barely glanced at her, and instead inspected the knife, testing its edge lightly with his thumb.

“What now?” she said and sat down opposite him.

Loki put the dagger down, handle away from him, and pushed it across the table towards her. “I need some of your hair,” he said.

She stared at him. Cosplaying as a girl whilst bringing her frilly underwear, potential stalking when invisible, and now asking for her _hair_. Could he get anymore creepy? “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter why. You will give it to me, and we both know it.”

“Or what, you’ll chop some off in my sleep?”

He met her eyes levelly. “The choice is yours.”

“Oh, come on!” she said. “How do I know you’re not going to use it in some weird ass dark ritual or make a voodoo doll of me or something?”

“If you give me a lock of your hair, I will grant you the freedom of the palace.”

That caught her attention. She eyed the knife suspiciously. “That sounds like too good of a deal to me. I want to know what you’re going to do with it.”

“Nothing that will cause anyone harm.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He gave a short laugh and looked away. “Then why do you ask?”

Darcy picked up the dagger. It was heavier than she had thought, and looked extremely sharp. There was no point in trying to use it on him, she knew. “The freedom of the palace?” she asked.

Loki inclined his head. “You have my word. Which, of course, carries little enough weight. But you have it all the same.”

She pulled loose a few hairs and held them up. “Is this enough?”

“A bit more,” he said. “And longer.”

Scowling, she grabbed a sizable chunk and he nodded. The blade went through it so easily she barely felt it catch. She looked at the damp tangles mournfully, then rose to give them to him. He pocketed the hair, then stood and reached up for her face. She shrunk back a little, and he stayed his hand.

“May I?” he asked.

“May you what?” 

He didn’t reply, but whispered some strange word, and with a slight shimmer, the hair she had just cut off started growing back.

“No way,” she said, staring at it as it snaked its way down her shoulder before coming to rest on her chest.

“I will return tomorrow, and until then you will remain here,” he said, turned and walked towards the door.

She wrenched her gaze away from her hair. “Hey, what about my freedom of the palace and all that?”

“Tomorrow.”

 

* * *

“Jane?”

“Yes?”

“You know that my love for you knows no bounds.”

Jane pulled the smelly furs tighter about her and shuffled on her knees towards the cell door to hear better. “Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming?”

A few moments passed in silence. “What?”

“Never mind. What were you going to say?”

“You mean so much to me, Jane," said Thor. "Before I met you, I had not the slightest idea that love could be so sweet. And yet...”

“Yeah, there it is,” muttered Jane.

“...And yet I fear my father may be right. My life never has been peaceful, nor will it ever be. This could be the start of another war with Jotunheim, and if not, there will always be other threats. As long as you’re with me, there will be risks.”

Jane took a deep breath, closed her eyes and counted to ten, then slowly let the air out again. “We’re not having this discussion,” she said.

“New Mexico was bad enough, and then S.H.I.E.L.D had to send you to Norway in case my brother would use you against me when he decided to invade the planet. And then the aether, and Rome...”

Scrambling to her feet, Jane practically flew to the grate in the door. For the first time in days, her cheeks felt warm. “First of all, I _will_ die. I have a life expectancy of just over 80 years. Granted I’m quite a healthy person, so sure, add a few years, but that’s still little more than an extended nap for you. Secondly, you’re not the boss of me. You don’t get to decide what _I’m_ willing to risk. How dare you? How dare you assume that your opinion is the only one that counts here? Yes, I know, you’re a god and a freaking superhero, but do you even realize how incredibly selfish you sound? If you want to end it, just _say_ so.”

“I don’t want to end it!” Thor said. “And _that’s_ selfish if anything. I simply don’t want you to waste your life on me.”

Jane gave a frustrated growl and let herself slide down on the floor again. “If my life really is that short and precious, let me waste it on whatever the heck I like! Unfortunately, I happen to like you, Thor. I’m having the time of my life. I have my own lab, the paychecks Pepper sends me are left intentionally blank, I’ve won the goddamn Nobel Prize, and I come home to an actual god between the sheets. Does that sound like a wasted life to you? Because it sure as hell doesn’t to me.”

The silence that descended over the dungeon was deafening, and Jane blinked away a tear angrily.

“I couldn’t bear it if you died because of me, Jane,” said Thor finally.

She shoved her knuckles in her mouth and bit down hard for a few moments. “No,” she said then. “No, no, no. Don’t put that on me. You do not get to take the one thing about me I can’t change and try and convince me that it’s your problem. I–”

“We can talk more once I find a way to get us out of here.”

It took all of Jane’s patience and a fair bit of willpower not to scream. “Once _I_ do, you mean,” she said under her breath. 

 

* * *

Loki returned the next morning, as promised. He kept up his habit of not knocking, but seeing as how he could apparently walk through walls, Darcy supposed he saw opening doors as a form of courtesy.

“No breakfast today?” she asked as he sat down.

“I think I have played servant to you for long enough,” he said. “Besides, I’m sure a clever woman like you can find her own way to the kitchens.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So you were serious? I can go wherever I like?”

“Provided you wear this,” said Loki, then reached inside a pocket and pulled out a bracelet.

Darcy took it from him to look at. It was very pretty; a simple leather loop, decorated with a four-way braid along the outside. Two of the threads appeared to be precious metals, and the other two... “Wait, is this my hair?” She brought the bracelet so close to her face it nearly touched her glasses. There was definitely hair in the braid. Her own dark brown strands weaving in and out of gold, silver and glossy black. _Glossy black._ Darcy snapped her head up. “Is that _your_ hair?”

“Hair has strong magical properties.”

Involuntarily, she shivered, then held the bracelet out to him, dangling it between her forefinger and thumb. “Thanks but no thanks.”

Loki stared at her. “That,” he said, “is an invaluable gift.”

“You know, I was kind of kidding when I said that thing about dark magic, but–.”

“Dark energy is nothing to joke about,” Loki interrupted her. “The spells woven into the bracelet are powerful, but far from dark.” His tone was so frosty she was half expecting smoke puffs, and she reluctantly pulled her hand back to look at the leather loop again. It was beautiful, she had to admit. 

“Did you make it?”

“Who else?”

“I wouldn’t have figured you for an arts and crafts type of guy, that’s all. Then again, you did a fine job on my hair the other day.”

Loki glared at her, and it was all she could do not to smirk. “My mother was exceptionally skilled in two things,” Loki said then, and Darcy’s smile died on her lips. “Magic, and weaving. She instructed me in both.”

Darcy glanced away, suddenly feeling guilty. While this was most likely another one of his schemes, it didn’t feel right to be putting down Frigga’s memory. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, then slipped the bracelet over her hand and onto her wrist. “How does this work, then?”

“While you wear it, others won’t be able to see or hear you.”

She ran her fingers over the braiding. “So if I take it off...”

“You won’t be able to take it off outside of this room.” Loki got to his feet, then narrowed his eyes. “And since you’re already thinking about it, rest assured that any attempts to call attention to yourself in other ways will result in me revoking this privilege, and others besides.”

Well, she might have guessed. 

Before opening the door, Loki flicked his hand and disguised himself as a guard. Darcy followed close behind, feeling the slight buzz of a magic barrier as she stepped over the threshold. After they had walked a few yards, Loki stopped and turned to her.

“You are free to go where you please. The kitchens are that way.” He nodded in the direction they had come from.

“Okay, thanks,” said Darcy.

Loki started walking again, and Darcy followed. “What are you doing?” he snapped.

“I’m coming with you.” 

 

* * *

 

Professor Ingrid Adelsten at the Department of Archaeology and Ancient History at Uppsala University was a tall, thin lady on the far side of retirement, yet her office showed no signs that she was about to give up her position any time soon. The room was so cluttered that the only way to get from the door to the desk was via a narrow path that wound between piles of books, dried up potted plants and various pieces of furniture covered in folders, cups and (in the case of a chair) a cat. Pepper carefully sat down on the edge of a small table while Agent Barton leaned against the desk. Adelsten offered them coffee from a thermos flask, and when Pepper declined, she poured herself a cup instead, then pulled out a dented tin from the bottom drawer of a desk. 

“ _Pepparkaka_?” She held out the tin. Inside were a few sorry looking ginger snaps.

“Thank you, but no,” said Pepper politely. “So, about this rune...”

Adelsten looked at the printed copy of one of JARVIS’s stills from the scene at the City Hall. “ _Thurs_ , it’s called,” she said. 

“Like Thursday?” asked Clint. 

“Not at all,” said Professor Adelsten. “It means giant. It was one of the core runes of the Elder Futhark, and it’s still used in the Icelandic alphabet.” She grabbed a ginger snap and munched thoughtfully while examining the photograph.

“Well,” said Pepper and forced herself to stop staring at the crumbs that were gathering on Adelsten’s cardigan. “That much we knew already. I want to know more about its... supposedly supernatural properties.”

The professor ignored that. “Where was this taken?” she asked.

“I’m afraid that information is classified.”

Professor Adelsten sipped at her coffee, her eyes boring into Pepper’s. “Well, maybe my information about your rune is classified as well.”

“You’ve written books about it,” complained Clint. “We could find it ourselves; it’ll just take a little longer.”

“Yes, thank you Barton,” said Pepper smoothly. “Professor, I know you have unpublished research in this field. Lives are at stake. Anything you could tell me would be very helpful.”

Adelsten put her cup down, balancing it precariously on top of a pile of folders, then leaned back in her chair. “What is that idiom you have? About scratching backs. Answer my question and I’ll answer yours. Deal?”

Pepper almost pretended to think about it for a moment. “All right,” she said. Clint shot her a glance, but she shook her head and then went on. “The photo was taken at the site of the earthquake in Stockholm a few days ago.” 

Professor Adelsten leaned forward in excitement. “So it _is_ true! There were rumors, but...”

“And the rune?”

The professor waved her hand dismissively. “Yes, yes. The rune of the giants. A sign of a powerful sorcerer, and just look at the glow. This is cold fire. I’m surprised the water didn’t freeze!” She got a faraway look in her eyes, then absentmindedly groped around the tin for another ginger snap. “The runes did not come from our world, you know. Originally. The Aesir brought them here, and taught the people the lore and some simple protective spells. _Uruz_ and _Jara_ gave good harvests when carved by a skilled shaman. _Tiwaz_ and _Ihwaz_ could bring luck in battle. But some runes were warnings, too, and _Thurs_ is one. Like I said, it means giant, but also warns of transformation and chaos. Back in those days, people believed that the giants came from Finland. Jotland, it was called–”

“Like Jotunheim?” Pepper broke in.

“Yes. Like Jotunheim.” Ingrid Adelsten was watching Pepper intently. “But while we now know that Asgard was more than myth, there has been fierce denial of the other realms.”

“Well, imagine the panic that would ensue should the idea spread that there are known hostile worlds out there, just as close to us as Asgard.”

Professor Adelsten raised her eyebrows. “Yes, imagine.”

 

Half an hour later, Pepper and Clint Barton were on their way back to their hotel to rendezvous with Selvig.

“The winter solstice is in six days,” she said. “That should give us enough time to scout out a good location.”

“ _It would appear Professor Adelsten has some firsthand experience of shamanism, Miss Potts. She may prove useful_.”

“Yes, but Erik Selvig will be a problem.”

“What?” said Agent Barton.

“I’m not talking to you,” said Pepper, and Barton huffed.

“ _My records indicate that they both worked at the university during the early 90’s_ ,” said JARVIS.

“And that’s the problem. Selvig tried to shut down her research. He was pretty high up in the hierarchy, and was dead set on weeding out projects that he thought were a waste of time. Or more specifically, money. She went without funding for six months, was evicted from her flat and forced to live in her office.”

“So that’s why you brought me instead of the actual Swede today,” said Barton, who was clearly making deductions from Pepper’s half of the conversation.

“Yes.”

“Good thing she managed to get funding again, I suppose. Shame about the flat.”

 

* * *

 

The audiences lasted for several hours, and already after the first three petitioners, Darcy was wishing she hadn’t followed Loki. Not because it wasn’t interesting - it _was_ \- but because she was starting to suspect he was actually doing quite a good job of ruling Asgard. As Odin, he was apparently firm but just, and while not everyone walked away happy, not a single decision was made that Darcy deemed completely unfair, cruel, cunning or otherwise Loki-esque in its nature. 

Once the general petitions were at an end, the King withdrew into an adjoining chamber together with a select few who she could only assume were some sort of councilors. She followed behind a strict-looking woman in a red robe, and carefully sidled along the wall as the rest filed in. There were refreshments laid out near the head seat at the back of the room, and she stole over to them and grabbed a slice of tart. Being invisible was pretty great, all things considered. She could see why Loki liked it. She could also see he was beginning to regret his decision of giving her the bracelet.

“Get out,” he whispered through his teeth as the others were settling down at the table.

“No,” she said. Then, unable to resist, she reached out and tugged at his white hair. As the form of Odin snapped his head towards Darcy, the glare he gave her was so much Loki that she shrank back a little. She supposed she’d be sorry later, but in her book they were square.

The council was much less entertaining than the audiences, and seemed to consist of the others bending over backwards to please the king of Asgard. It was a bit sickening to watch, and she imagined that this was just the kind of thing Loki got off on. He brought one issue up, listened as the councilors tried to outdo one another in kissing up to Odin, then moved on to the next. No one ever disagreed with him, and no decisions were actually made. After half an hour had passed in which nothing of importance whatsoever had been dealt with, Darcy felt she had seen enough, so she slipped out and went to explore the palace.

After the days spent in confinement, it was only natural that she soon gravitated towards the gardens. They were as wondrous and breathtaking as one would expect of the backyard of gods. There was a fountain flowing with what seemed to be sparkling wine (Darcy tried some and managed to get tipsy after only a few mouthfuls), a rookery full of crystalline birds that trilled and sang in angelic harmonies (she could stand about two minutes of it), and a rose garden where the petals of the flowers shifted subtly in all the colors of the rainbow (it was like a rave in slow motion). 

There were others in the gardens as well, Asgardians young and old, and for a while she watched two young girls playing with a strange ball that shot off on its own while the children stayed turned away, and after a few seconds the girls went looking for it, seemingly using some sort of magic or spells to try and discover its location. The smaller of the girls was considerably better at it than the other, she noted. Darcy wondered how old they were, and if Asgardians aged normally, but very slowly, or if their adulthood was simply stretched out. If Loki was over a thousand years old, and Odin had been pushing five thousand... Were these children the age they looked - seven and eight, perhaps - or were they closer to two hundred? For their sake, she really hoped for the former. She imagined being fifteen years old for fifteen years, and shuddered.

As the sun was beginning to set, she made her way back towards the palace, thinking she probably ought to find the kitchens after all. Perhaps it was her rumbling belly distracting her, or perhaps she just took a wrong turn, but Darcy suddenly found herself at the entrance to a maze. Of course, every palace garden worth its name would have a maze, and although she was already curious, she knew better than to get herself tangled up in one. Its leafy walls were so high she couldn’t really tell how far it went, but judging from the outside, it wasn’t too big. She decided to just go in quickly and take a look at the first junction, to see if she could see anything interesting. A strange sort of quiet descended as she stepped inside the maze, but after a few paces, she heard a noise behind her. Turning around, she saw the hedged walls growing together, quickly closing over the entrance.

“Shit!” she said, and ran over to it, but the leaves and branches were so dense that she couldn’t even reach more than a foot inside it with her arm. “Shit, shit, shit.”

After an initial few moments of sheer panic, she took a few deep breaths.

“Relax,” she told herself. “You’re not in the middle of nowhere. You’re in Asgard, and if you’re AWOL for too long, Loki is going to come looking for you. Okay. Stay cool.”

The words sounded more reassuring than they felt, but she knew there was some truth in them as well. She looked down the green corridor. Supposedly the best thing to do when lost was to stay in one place and wait for help, but she would much rather find her own way out than having to wait for _him_ to show up. Squaring her shoulders, Darcy set off along the graveled path.

It soon became evident that the maze was ever-changing. At times, an opening would close ahead of her, and a new one open up behind her, forcing her to backtrack or take certain routes. It was stuffy and hot in between the hedges, and she could sometimes make out the sound of running water, adding to her discomfort with its alluring bubbling. After a while, she decided against all reason to simply keep doing the bidding of the maze, always choosing the path that was offered. Before long, the temperature became more pleasant, the air lighter to breathe, and as suddenly as she had found herself at the entrance to the maze, she was standing at the heart of it. At least she guessed that the square, open space with a large fountain in the center was just that. Without thinking twice about it, she rushed over to the shallow pool and drank long and deep. No strawbeer had ever tasted finer.

After she had drunk her fill, she looked around. She almost laughed as she realized that the path she had taken to reach the square was gone. There was no way out of the space she was in now. Leaning back against the marble base of the fountain, she sighed and looked up at the sky.

“All right, Loki. You can come and save me now. Please. I’m hungry.”

Several long minutes passed, and aside from the evening darkening slowly, nothing happened. Darcy fingered the bracelet, thinking back to what Loki had said. Strong magical properties. She wished she’d asked him more about that. If he could tell when she was breaking rules, it must have some kind of link to him, she thought. Pressing her fingers down on the braiding, she concentrated as hard as she could on Loki, trying to telepathically alert him that she was stuck in his stupid, magical maze.

“If you can hear me, please come and get me. Pretty please. With sugar on top.”

There was a rustling behind her, and she turned around, peering beyond the fountain. It wasn’t Loki at all, but the weird ball that she had seen the children playing with, rolling out from under the branches and coming to rest on the gravel. She was about to stand up and go to it when she saw the hedge shimmer slightly, and a small opening in the dense shrubbery appeared. Through it came one of the girls, and even though Darcy knew she was invisible, she still crouched behind the fountain as the little Asgardian approached the ball. Suddenly, the other girl came rushing through behind her, roughly pushed her friend aside and snatched the ball up.

“Hey!” shouted Darcy, half getting to her feet, then remembered her promised punishment for trying to interfere and sank back down. 

The first girl got to her feet again. “I found it!” she said, trying to snatch the ball back, but the second girl kept it well out of reach.

“But I got to it first.”

“Only because you were following me!”

“The ends justify the means, sis,” said the other girl, sounding very much like she was repeating something she had heard an adult say. “Take it back if you can.”

The smaller girl made another grab for the ball, but her sister easily shoved her away again, pushing her to the ground.

“That’s it,” muttered Darcy, getting to her feet, then quickly sank back down as she saw the hedge glitter again. This time, a woman stepped out.

“What’s the meaning of this?” she said, looking at the children. The older girl blanched and fled through the smaller opening in the maze, still clutching the ball tightly. The woman ran a few steps after her, then changed her mind and turned back to the young girl who was sitting with her hands clasped over her knee.

“Let me see that,” said the woman and gently moved the girl’s hands. The knee was scraped; not too badly, but there was definitely some blood. “Hold still,” said the woman, and with a murmur and a soft gesture, the wound was healed.

The girl gaped at her leg, then at the woman. Her reaction made Darcy go cold. Apparently healing powers weren’t as everyday on Asgard as she’d thought, and the one person she was sure was good at it was... She drew a sharp breath, and the woman snapped her head around, looking straight at her. _Loki_. Of course it was, and for some reason he suddenly looked livid.

“Run along now,” the Loki-woman said in a short voice, half turning to the girl who looked around her with confusion before she got to her feet and scurried off through the hedge. It closed neatly behind her, leaving the two of them alone.

Darcy stood up and stepped out from behind the fountain as Loki turned into himself. 

“I didn’t know you had a soft spot for kids,” she said. Loki opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again and glared at her. Darcy snorted. “You mean that little show you just put on _wasn’t_ for my benefit? Yeah right.” The bewildered look he gave her didn’t do much to convince her otherwise either.

“I didn’t fashion that for you to call me to your side for entertainment,” Loki said, pointing at her bracelet. 

“So you did hear me! And I’m not looking for entertainment; I’m looking for a way out of here.”

“The idiocy of humans never fails to amaze,” he said. “Follow me,” He walked past her without looking at her, and flicked his hand irritably. The hedge parted obediently, showing a straight path out of the maze. Loki fell into his usual stride while Darcy hurried along after him.

“How exactly does this work?” she asked, holding her arm out and jiggling the leather loop. “Can you tell where I am all the time?”

“If I wanted to know, I could easily find out,” he said. “Not that I need to, most of the time. What possessed you to sneak into council?”

“Well, I had hoped to find out something useful, but I couldn’t hear much with all the buttkissing going on.”

“What?” Loki looked genuinely confused for a while, and then realization seemed to dawn. “Oh, you noticed that, did you? Sometimes the Aesir are as trying as mortals, truly.”

“Hah, I bet you love it.”

“Yes, that would be very _me_ , wouldn’t it?” Loki stopped and turned to face her, eyes flashing dangerously. “I’ll say this again, Darcy Lewis of Midgard. Don’t presume to know me.”

Darcy was on the verge of spitting out a snappy retort when she heard a low rumble. For a few seconds, she and Loki locked gazes. “I’m fairly certain that wasn’t my belly,” she said.

“What–” Loki began, and then the ground shook, followed by a familiar roar.

Darcy winced. “In fact, I’m fairly certain that’s the Hulk.”

“Go to your apartment and stay there,” said Loki, then vanished.

For a few moments, she was left in confused silence. Then she quickly walked the last few steps out of the maze and looked towards the palace. She could hear screams in the distance and the ground shook again. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen,” she said and set off towards the noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad so many people are enjoying this! I'm very new to the Tasertricks fandom, and I _will_ get around to reading other people's stories as well. I tend not to read too much when I'm writing because reading other stories and realising how bloody good they are can destroy my writing funk for days. Thank you for all the lovely reblogs and comments on Tumblr as well! If anyone wants to hit me up there to chat, my Tumblr name is yavannies (yes, with an s).


	7. The Tempest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit longer than I expected. I have to once again thank my amazing beta [DaemonMeg](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DaemonMeg/pseuds/DaemonMeg) for all her TLC, pep talks and for selflessly listening to my Loki meta rants and for being the best in general. 
> 
> My friend sirithfin has drawn a lovely piece of fanart inspired by this fic! You can view it [here](http://yavannies.tumblr.com/post/74584087561/woot-my-awesome-friend-e-strikes-again-i-keep).

As Darcy hurried along the path towards the palace, she tugged at the bracelet. She knew Bruce had moments of clarity, even as the Hulk, and if she was to have any hope of escaping with him, she needed for him to be able to see her. It was useless, it seemed. The more she pulled, the tighter it coiled about her wrist, until it was so firmly strapped around her arm that she couldn’t even slip her fingers under it anymore. With a frustrated grunt, she let go of it and ran.

The distant sounds of the rampant monster were coming from a part of the palace that Darcy was unfamiliar with, and the only sure sign she had that she was heading the right way were the Asgardians fleeing in the opposite direction. Once inside, she kept to the sides of the corridors, pressing herself against the wall whenever someone came too close. Darcy was the only one not fleeing, and she was soon rushing through an empty hallway, guided by the crashes and thumps that came ever closer. Arriving at a three-way crossing, she stopped a minute to catch her breath. She tried to determine where exactly the sounds were coming from, but it was impossible to tell with all the echoes. Some sort of thundering noise could be heard on her left, and choosing that path, she ran as fast as her feet would carry her. 

The corridor soon opened up into a wide space, and after glancing up, she realized she had made a mistake. She was outside. Ahead of her was a slender marble bridge; a wide span that led across a roaring waterfall and out onto a platform with a few benches, probably offering a spectacular view during the light hours. There was a noise behind her, and when she spun around she could see the unmistakable flash of green in the distance. She couldn’t help but back away a few paces, and as the Hulk raced towards her, she started frantically tugging at the bracelet again.

“Bruce!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, but it was quite clear he couldn’t hear her. “Useless piece of crap,” she said as the bracelet once more tightened around her wrist. 

The Hulk was only yards away now, and Darcy flattened herself against the wall, hoping he would simply run past her. Then came a flash and a loud crack, and the wall opposite her crumbled with the impact of some explosion, making the Hulk scramble to a halt and turn around, roaring. There was another huge bang, and bits of the ceiling came falling down over the green monster, making him stop to claw at his eyes in anger. A huge fist came hurtling through the air as the Hulk punched a hole in the wall just above Darcy. She could barely hear herself scream over the noises that filled the hallway, and as she backed away towards the bridge, she could see a company of guards in the distance, led by Loki in the guise of Odin. He raised his scepter, and realizing he was the one blowing the place to pieces, Darcy turned and ran. The only option she had was to go across the bridge and out onto the overlook, and even as she sprinted towards it, she could hear the Hulk smashing something close behind. A glance over her shoulder confirmed her worst fears.

 “No, no, no,” she said as she watched him bounding towards her, oblivious of her and angry as hell. 

She ran the last few steps to the railing of the terrace. Now, there was nowhere left to go. Frozen like a deer in the headlights, she watched as Loki let loose a blast of energy from Odin’s scepter that smashed the narrow bridge, watched it crumble and fall into the mists of the waterfall, trapping the Hulk on the platform with her. There was not a trace of Dr. Banner in the monster that bellowed and roared in anger, and she cowered and crept along the rail, trying to put as much distance between him and herself, hoping he wouldn’t strike out and accidentally swipe her off the edge. Then it struck her. There was someone here who _could_ hear her.

“Loki!” she shouted, standing up.

And Loki saw her. He had just raised the spear again, but he froze. Darcy could see it all so clearly, time slowing down, every second stretching out like an age. The Hulk glancing up, seeing a way out, one gigantic, but not impossible, leap away; Loki, his scepter raised, ready to reduce the marble pillar underneath them to rubble, to send the monster tumbling into the gaping maw. Then the Hulk snorted and slammed his fists down, and the pinnacle shook dangerously. Darcy was flung to her knees, and the impact made her glasses fly off, leaving her half-blind inches away from the edge of the platform. _So this is it_ , she thought. _Death by Hulk_.

And the world shifted.

One moment she had been staring down at the waterfall, and the next she was lying sprawled on the floor next to Odin and his men. There were shouts, and the guards rushed forward only to stop again after a few yards. Darcy looked up. The Hulk was gone. He had taken the leap, and was out of reach.

“To the eastern stair!” barked Loki, and off they went, leaving Darcy where she lay. 

For a minute or so, she didn’t move. She waited for her breathing to slow, for her heartbeat to return to normal, then blinked once or twice, attempting to focus. Without her glasses, the world was fuzzy around the edges, and having just miraculously survived a fall that would have killed her didn't do much to help her perceptive abilities.

“Do you value your life so little?” said a vaguely familiar voice.

She scrambled to her feet and faced Valdís - or rather, Loki in the guise of Valdís.

"Haven't you got bigger fish to fry?" asked Darcy.

"To your chambers," said Loki. "Now." The commanding tone of voice sounded very strange coming from Valdís.

Darcy hobbled along dazedly, and her tangled thoughts landed on the one thing that was most obviously wrong with this situation. “Let me get this straight,” she said. “You chose to save my life over sending the Hulk flying?”

“The fall would not have killed him, it would merely have slowed him down.”

“True, but you still saved my life.”

“A temporary fit of insanity, most likely.”

“Well… Thank you.”

Loki didn’t reply, and seemed oddly distant as they made their way back to her apartment, answering the rest of Darcy's questions with one or two words. At least in the shape of Valdís he moved at a somewhat normal pace, and all the while they were walking, Darcy's mind was racing. Bruce could look after himself, she knew, but he had been her best hope of escaping, Hulk or no. Now, after managing to get lost on Loki’s lawn and then disobeying a direct command, she guessed her relative freedom was about to come to an immediate and irrevocable end. Outside her room, Loki stopped.

"Inside," he said, leaving it to Darcy to open the door. 

She hovered on the threshold. “You know you can’t keep him locked up. You know you can’t kill him. Perhaps it’s better to just let him go.”

Loki simply looked at her, then turned to leave.

“Maybe I could reason with–,” Darcy began, and reached out to grab his arm, only to fumble in thin air as her hand went right through him. 

He glanced down at his arm with a little half-smile. “For your own safety, please stay inside,” he said, and then vanished completely.

 

* * *

 

_Block, sweep, down, side, kick, kick, yes good, go low_... WHACK. _No_.

"Ouch," said Tony, doubling over and clutching at his side. Slowly, he sank to his knees.

"Stop being such a baby," said Natasha, as she lowered her guard and offered him her hand.

She only just managed to register the glance he gave her, but by then it was already too late, and a fraction of a second later she was flying, pawing uselessly at thin air. As she landed, she managed to roll into a crouch while pulling her gun. Tony was just a bit too slow, and as he steadied his aim she said, "Boom. You're dead. Even though you cheated."

"I thought cheating was the whole point of this exercise," said Tony with a smirk as he slid the gun she had lent him into the holster at his thigh. "Also, you'd be a burnt blintz by now if I'd turned the heat on in these babies." He held up his palms where his repulsors glowed faintly.

"And you think a target would offer you a helping hand instead of taking the shot?"

"Adapt to the target, isn't that what you always say, Romanov?"

She rewarded him with the last word and simply smiled. He was, after all, making progress. 

"You should be careful with those,” she said. “How much juice do you have left in them?”

Stark flicked his wrists and the repulsors slid back up into the sleeves of the shirt he had borrowed from Fandral. “Just about enough to allow myself to land you on your ass once."

She raised an eyebrow.

"All right, all right. They're at 44%. That's about an hour’s worth of flight time in good weather."

“I wouldn’t waste it on flying if I were you.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sif moving towards them, and she nodded at her before stepping aside to let the Asgardian warrior take her place opposite Tony. 

“Oh, good,” said Tony. “Time for a real challenge.”

As Stark went flying, quite without the help of his gadgets, Natasha settled down beside Fandral who was sharpening a dagger. She had been avoiding his company all day, but now she wanted information and out of the three warriors, he was definitely the one most likely to willingly part with some.

“I heard you call Hogun protector of Vanaheim earlier,” she said, broaching the topic from a safe distance.

“Indeed, fair Romanov,” said Fandral. “Hogun is Thor’s eyes and ears here while he has business on Midgard.”

“I thought Odin was the protector of the nine realms? Don't you report back to him?"

Fandral wiped the blade carefully on his breeches, then sheathed the dagger. "Odin grows old. He no longer ventures from Asgard, and the day will come when Thor will have to take the throne, whether he wants it or not."

“So even gods grow old and crippled," she mused.

The slight frown would have been barely noticeable to most, but to Natasha it spoke volumes. She relaxed her arms, settling into a friendly, open pose and waited him out.

“He is still strong, but consumed with grief,” Fandral said finally. “After Frigga died he almost lost it entirely, but once the debacle with Malekith was over, he seemed at peace. The last year has been good - almost strangely so - but now, all of a sudden…” He shook his head.

“Are you sure the best way to handle this is by picking a fight?”

Fandral laughed. “That’s our Sif for you. We shall see, my lady. We are still in the utgardian parts of Vanaheim, but once we reach the root of Yggdrasil, we will know for sure if the way into Asgard needs to be forced or not.”

“The root?”

“Before long, you will see for yourself.” 

They watched as Sif picked Tony up by the collar of his shirt to fling him effortlessly into the ferns a few yards away.

“She is growing fond of him,” remarked Fandral.

“Yes,” Natasha agreed. “She’s pretty much stopped throwing him head first now.”

She noticed him looking at the dagger at her side. “How good are you with a blade, Lady Romanov?”

“ _Agent_ Romanov,” she said. “And I have some skill with daggers.”

“And swords?”

“It’s not my weapon of choice.”

“Will you… spar with me?” asked Fandral, edging a little closer. “I would gladly show you a few tricks.”

_Spar? Really?_ “I’d rather not,” said Natasha, flashing him her sweetest smile. “My hand might slip and I’d hate to accidentally chop something off.”

 

* * *

 

“Watch that relay,” said Jane, hovering nervously at the side of the Frostsmith. Vakti dutifully translated, and the Frostsmith merely grunted. 

The door to her improvised lab opened, and she reluctantly looked away from the workbench to see who it was. Her heart nearly leapt when she saw one of Angerboda’s servants, carrying a tray of small, stoppered glass bottles. He spoke a few words to Vakti, who then translated to Jane.

“Gas from Askamýri,” he said.

“Awesome,” Jane said, then cursed herself for sounding so excited. “This is… Vital. Very much so.” 

Inside, she was breathing a sigh of relief. The TD had been as ready as it would be for a day and a half now, and she was running out of ideas for stalling. She grabbed a few of the slender glass vials from the tray and inspected them. They were surrounded by a lingering smell of sulphur, and Jane sincerely hoped that the gas packed enough punch. She would only have one shot at going through with her plan. Drawing a sudden deep breath, she faked a sneeze. Both the Frostsmith and Vakti turned to look at her.

“Sorry,” she said. “I think I’m catching cold. It’s one of those human things.”

She coughed loudly, then spun around to fake another sneeze whilst slipping the vials under her fur cloak. They had furnished her with some warmer clothes, clearly made for a human, but someone much larger than herself. That meant plenty of room to hide things; she already carried a small steel knife down the shaft of one of her oversized boots that she had managed to swipe from the Frostsmith’s workbench two days earlier. Jane waited until the Jotuns lost interest in her again before casually leaning against the table and picking up a piece of quartzite to play with. She stole a glance at the frost giants, then closed her palm over the little rock and gave another loud cough.

“I’m not feeling too great,” she said. “I should probably rest a little.”

Vakti eyed her suspiciously. “No resting until we are done here,” he said.

“Oh!” said Jane theatrically. “I think I have a fever. Damn this weak mortal form!” 

She sank to the floor, pretending to faint, and in an instant, Vakti was there, picking her up and cradling her gently as he carried her off. He spoke a few words to the Frostsmith, then kicked the door open and strode towards the dungeons.

“You had best be getting better soon, little one,” he muttered. “Angerboda grows weary of waiting.”

Jane kept her eyes half-closed and mumbled a little, hoping she was doing a good enough job of faking sudden illness. Vakti was taking a longer, more secluded route, she noticed, and she realized he was trying to protect her from Angerboda’s wrath. A pang of guilt shot through her as she considered what she was about to do. _Please leave it to someone else to stand guard in the dungeon_ , she thought.

 

* * *

 

With the strain of squinting starting to take its toll on her eyes it probably would have been better to simply go to sleep, but Darcy found herself far too restless to relax. After gorging on fruit from the basket that seemed to refill itself magically every night and then pacing around the room for some time, she went out onto the balcony. It was well past midnight, but the city below was far from asleep. She could see the streets lined with the hazy glow of lit windows, and little blurs of light scurried back and forth everywhere; guard patrols, she guessed. Clouds had gathered overhead, but a balmy summer breeze was blowing, caressing her bare arms with the lingering heat of the day. A gust made her hair fly about wildly, and she turned her face to the wind. It was the kind that promised rain, or a thunderstorm. She could almost smell it on the air, and briefly wondered if Loki would be vexed by a bit of thunder and lightning. The warm breeze suddenly mingled with a strange chill, and it came as no surprise when she sniffed at the air that she inhaled _that_ scent.

“No luck?” she asked, not even bothering to turn around.

Loki came to stand next to her. “He leaves a track plain enough for any fool to follow, but whether or not we will is for the council to decide.”

“Decide? They’ll do whatever you want. You are the mighty Odin.”

He laughed quietly, but didn’t reply. She squinted over at him. He smelled real enough, and sounded his usual self, too. Slowly, she reached out and prodded his arm with a finger. Loki looked down at her hand.

“Just checking if you’re really here this time,” she said. “You’re very good with illusions.”

“The best,” he said without a moment’s hesitation.

They stood there for quite some time without speaking, just looking out over the city. He seemed in a pensive mood, and after a while she started suspecting he had forgotten she was there at all. The breeze that kept making Darcy’s hair tangle about her face simply ruffled his in a dramatic, almost attractive way. She cleared her throat. “You told me you were trying to help Thor,” she asked. “How’s that going?”

Loki sighed and bent forward to lean on the marble railing. “My brother is in a place I had sincerely hoped I would never return to. There is a possibility that he’s already dead, of course, but if not, the purpose of his imprisonment is most likely to lure me there.” 

Darcy considered this. While it was almost as vague as anything he’d ever told her, he at least answered her question. “So you won’t try to save him?”

“By walking into a trap? Besides, Asgard is threatened and needs its king. It needs… I need to stay here.” He bunched up his hands into fists and then slowly spread his fingers again. He gave a short laugh. “Perhaps your monster will find the way there and free him.”

“Where is ‘there’?” she asked.

“Jotunheim.”

She stared at him. Thor, and most likely _Jane_ , trapped on yet another hostile world. As long as she’d been blissfully unaware, it had been easy enough to push away any theories and simply live in ignorance, but now the full force of highly uncomfortable knowledge hit her. _Jotunheim_. “Your… home?” she said.

“It is not my home.”

“This was all you, wasn’t it? You’ve been mixed up in this from the start.” Darcy could feel herself growing tense with anger, then suddenly checked herself. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘lure you there’? Did you piss your family off? I mean, it wouldn’t exactly be surprising, it’s more or less what you’ve done in your life so far–“

“I do _not_ have family in Jotunheim,” he said hotly.

“You do now! You keep calling him brother, so I guess you care at least a little?”

“Care isn’t the word I would use,” said Loki with a grim smile.

“Look, your surly sibling love thing is really cute, and if there’s one thing I’ve learnt from a year of playing agony aunt to Thor whenever Jane had to work late it’s that you guys have been at each other’s throats for like a thousand years now and you both love it. Never mind things like people - I’m sorry, _mortals -_ or cities, or _worlds_ getting in the way of your little romps. Who cares, right? But you know, from where I’m standing, the one thing that matter is that my best friend is locked up and possibly dead on a frozen planet somewhere, and the only one with the power to do anything about it can’t decide if he’s over the latest lover’s spat just yet.”

He frowned. “You consider Thor to be your best friend?”

“No, you idiot, I’m talking about Jane!” She pinched the bridge of her nose and drew a deep breath. The strain on her eyes without her glasses had resulted in the slow build-up of a headache, and she felt it blooming all of a sudden. “If you won’t go yourself, then let me. Just beam me down on that Bifrost thing.” She waved her hand indistinctly.

“You wouldn’t last an hour on Jotunheim,” said Loki.

“Well, it’s a win-win situation. I can at least try and fail, and you’ll get rid of me.”

“Why do you care so little for your life?” he asked. Before she could answer, he went on, almost as if talking to himself. “Is it faith in some false Midgardian god that leads you to again and again so recklessly put yourself in harm’s way? You have proven yourself capable of rational thinking and even wit, so this is not, I should think, mere stupidity.”

She almost pitied him. A thousand years or more, and he still hadn’t learned to live? Maybe that’s what being practically immortal did to you, she thought, but she didn’t say anything. Her head was pounding, and she rubbed her temples. “I don’t suppose you have any Aspirin or anything like that?” she asked.

“Aspirin?”

“I lost my glasses when the Hulk knocked me over. Just keeping my eyes open is giving me a killer headache.”

The wind suddenly let up, and an eerie calm descended over the balcony. _The calm before the storm_ , she thought. Loki stepped close then, and for some reason she didn’t recoil this time. Quite gently, he took a hold of her chin and turned her head to face him. Darcy suddenly felt rather relieved that her vision wasn’t exactly 20-20, because she could tell he was looking straight into her eyes. She swallowed and tried to ignore the various reactions her body was having to standing so close to him. Her pulse was speeding up, and although she knew she ought to be scared, her increased heart rate had nothing to do with fear. Darcy’s brain was overclocking as she tried to deal with confusion, self-disgust, the budding migraine and impossible arousal all at once, and she landed in the not-so logical conclusion that this was some kind of ass-backwards reaction to being so worried about Jane. He moved his hand to the side of her face, and for a brief, bewildering moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he murmured something, and from his fingertips the warmth of his magic spread through her temple and coiled behind her eyes, soothing the tension and washing away the pain. She blinked a couple of times.

“Thanks,” she said, and then it struck her. His leather armor chest piece had suddenly gone from vaguely blurry to full HD. She turned aside and peered out into the night. The lights of the city were perfectly sharp, and when she snapped her head around to look at Loki, she saw his curiously raised eyebrow in greater detail than she ever had with her glasses. “What the hell have you done?” she hissed.

“Your eyes were flawed,” he said, frowning. “It was causing the headache.”

“Yes, thank you, I know! You mean you just…” she waved her hand around angrily, “…and fixed it?”

“Yes.” The look he gave her was uncomprehending. “You asked me to, did you not?”

All of the mixed emotions that had been swirling around inside her over the last few hours suddenly gathered and melded into hot, hard fury. “Not cool,” she said, bunching her fist up, ready to take a swing at him. At the last minute, she changed her mind and slammed it down on the balcony railing instead. “I asked you for a goddamn painkiller, not ocular surgery!”

“Surely this is easier…”

“No! No, Loki. You can’t just go around changing people. I’m a person, not a broken toy!” She drew a deep breath. “Look, if this is you trying to make up for all the shit you’ve done to us humans in the past, you’re doing it wrong.”

Loki’s face was unreadable as he listened to her, and when she fell silent again he gave her a stiff smile. “Very well. I’ll restore your eyes-“

“No!” she said and pulled away as he reached for her face once more. “No more screwing with my head. At least not until I can get my contacts, or a new pair of glasses.”

“Make your mind up,” he said. 

Darcy raised her hands. “All I’m trying to say, is that you can’t just go meddling like that. Not with people. People have flaws. We deal with it. We’re not gods, and we’re okay with that.”

The wind was picking up again, and her hair whipped at her cheeks. She pushed it firmly behind her ears and pulled a straying strand from her mouth. Loki, of course, looked impeccable despite the gusting gale.

”Some gods do have flaws,” he said.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” said Darcy just as the heavens opened up and the rain started falling.

He took her by the wrist and pulled her away from the downpour to the shelter beneath the overhang, then turned to face her again. Now would have been a good time to let her hand go, but he didn’t. His eyes were firmly locked on hers, and she wondered briefly if she was under some sort of spell, as she seemed unable to wrench her gaze away. She could feel his fingers caressing her wrist, and shivered slightly. It was the good kind of shivers, and she wasn’t sure who she wanted to slap more; herself or Loki. He leaned towards her, gently pulling her closer, squeezing her hand, and she almost parted her lips in anticipation.

“You will accompany me to council tomorrow,” he said, and then vanished.

Slowly, Darcy became aware of just how deafeningly loud the rain was as she began taking in her surroundings again. “Okay,” she said. “Yeah. Okay.”

As she walked back inside, she thoughtfully rubbed her wrist where he had held onto it, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Then it struck her. _The bracelet_. The bracelet was gone. Darcy had to laugh. Not at his petty, flirtatious trickery, but at herself for falling for it. “All right, you little shit,” she said. “The game is on.”


	8. If All Else Fails Use Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I ever told you guys what an amazing beta [DaemonMeg](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DaemonMeg/pseuds/DaemonMeg) is? I could tell you a million times and it still wouldn't do her justice. Have I also told you that you are the best readers ever? Thank you so much for sticking with this story, for all your comments and kudos and tumblr support. I'm enjoying writing this so, so much, and I'm extremely lucky to have readers like you.

Jane waited, trying to count the minutes since Vakti left her. They dragged on slowly, and in the meantime she busied herself with ripping thin ribbons of lace from her ruined gown, still in a heap on the floor of her cell. She tied a scrap around each of the little bottles, then slipped out her stolen dagger and the piece of quartzite. It took her a few tries to get the hang of it, but she was soon able to strike sparks several times in a row. Finally, she heard the guard change. This was the time for the Jotuns' evening meal, she knew, and with most of them in a distant part of the keep, this was the best possible time for escape. She waited another few minutes, then lay down on the floor and gave a pained moan.

“Jane?” came Thor's voice instantly.

 _Forgive me, Thor_ , she thought, then pretended to cough violently. “I'm so cold…” she said in a weak voice.

“Jane, what's wrong?” She could hear the panic in his voice and felt a surge of guilt.

“So very cold…” She groaned again.

“Jane! Talk to me! Damn you all to Hel, Jotun scum! Can you hear me? She needs help!” The crashes coming from his cell were louder than ever, and she was fairly sure he was trying to shoulder his way out.

 _Don't bring the whole house_ , she prayed silently. Moments later, she heard steps approaching, and she quickly pulled her sleeping furs up, clutching at a vial. There were some incomprehensible words at the door, and Jane drew a sigh of relief to hear that it wasn't Vakti. Thor was hurling unhelpful threats at the Jotun, making Jane wish fervently for telepathic abilities, but at last she heard the sound of her door opening. She struck the quartzite with the knife once, twice, three times. Her hands were shaking, slipping. _Shit_. The Jotun said something in a questioning voice, and then, on the fourth try, came a spark. The lace caught fire surprisingly easy. 

“I'm so sorry,” said Jane.

She took a deep breath, whipped the furs aside and briefly met the eyes of the frost giant before flinging the vial hard at him and diving under the covers again. The explosion was deafeningly loud, and the heatwave made Jane forget she was supposed to be holding her breath, making her almost gag from the sickly sweet smell. Scrambling out from under the smoldering sleeping furs, she quickly patted herself down, making sure she wasn’t on fire, then sniffed carefully at the air. If there was any trace of gas left, it had hopefully sunk. The pile of reeking animal hides was smoking, and the only sign of the Jotun was a large puddle on the floor of the cell.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she said and carefully stepped around the wetness, then hurried over to the door where the key was still lodged in the lock. It wasn’t your usual cast iron key on a keyring, but a master key in the shape of a square block made from some strange metal. Jane had seen Vakti use a similar key in various places, and she desperately hoped this one opened more doors than just hers.

As the ringing in her ears subsided, she could hear bewildered and incoherent noises coming from where Thor was being kept. “Just a minute!” said Jane as she tugged at the key, attempting to get it out.

“Jane?” asked Thor after a few seconds silence.

“Come on you stupid–” With one last yank, the key finally came loose and Jane hurried over to Thor’s cell. She allowed herself exactly two seconds to look up at the grate and into his eyes, and feel her heart swell before testing the lock. As the key slid in, a little laugh escaped her, half turning into a sob. Seconds later, she was pressed against Thor’s chest, those ridiculously strong arms clamped around her so firmly it was almost rib-crushing.

“How…?” he said, looking down at her.

“Hydrogen sulfide,” she said, then pulled him down into a deep kiss, tangling her fingers in his hair, inhaling his familiar scent. After nearly a week in confinement they both stank to high heaven, but right now, nothing had ever smelled better to Jane than Thor’s sweat. 

“We should leave,” he said, pulling away. “They’ll be down here any minute.”

“I know. That’s exactly why we _shouldn’t_ leave. Here.” She took him by the hand and led him down the corridor to another empty cell, unlocked it and ushered Thor inside.

“Are you sure this is wise?” he asked.

“No, but it’s the best chance we’ve got,” said Jane and locked the door from the inside.

“Shouldn’t–“

“Shh,” said Jane. “They’re here.”

They could hear a number of Jotuns coming down the stairs, the hardened soles of their feet grating on the stone floor and their voices echoing through the dungeon. Jane and Thor pressed themselves against the door in the hope that they would go unnoticed to anyone who decided to peek through the grate. _He’s so warm_ , thought Jane dazedly, barely able to believe that she had lived to hold him again. He was still wearing his tuxedo, and in this setting it made him look more out of place than ever. The cold didn't bother him at all, she knew, and she pressed herself closer, slipping her arms under his jacket, letting his heat seep into her.

“Jane…” he whispered, and she put a finger across his lips.

Even though the Jotun were clamoring outside, arguing and slamming doors, she couldn't resist turning her face up for another kiss, and then another, all while trying to stay as quiet as possible. At least she wouldn’t regret not doing it if they were caught. Luck, as it turned out, was on their side, and a few moments later the frost giants left again by the stairs, still shouting at each other. 

“Jane–” he began again in a hushed voice.

“What are they saying?” she whispered.

Thor pulled away to listen. “They're afraid,” he said after a while.

“Afraid?”

“They saw the remains of the Jotun you killed. Jane,” he said then, for the third time, his eyes glittering in a way usually reserved for their pillow talk. “Marry me.”

She gave a little laugh, then clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle the noise. “What?”

“Say you’ll marry me, and once we’re back on Earth I’ll give you a wedding the like of which Midgard hasn’t seen for a thousand years.”

After a few seconds of shocked silence, Jane simply shook her head and laughed again. “Really? You’re proposing? Here? Now? I… I’m flattered. And overwhelmed. Wow. Okay. I’m going to need some time to think about this. I’m sorry. First things first, all right?”

“Of course, a betrothal is customary, but-,”

“I was talking about getting the hell out of here.”

Thor smiled and kissed her again, seemingly unfazed by her reaction. “Do you know a way?” he asked. “We cannot count on Heimdall, I think.”

“We need to get to my lab. I only have two more of these–” she fished out the vials of gas and held them up, “–and then we'll need the TD to get back to Earth.”

They made their way up the stairs only to run into their first spot of trouble at the top. Peering out into the hallway beyond, Jane could see the bobbing light of a cold fire torch coming around a corner, so she pulled back and began fumbling for a vial, but Thor laid his hand on her arm.

“Save those for later,” he whispered, then grinned and leapt out just as the Jotun walked past. 

Granted, he was one Mjölnir short of his full power, but he was still a god, and a trained warrior at that. With a gasp, Jane turned aside and tried to ignore the sickening sound of Thor twisting the neck of the frost giant.

“Please try not to kill them unless it's absolutely necessary,” she said, keeping her eyes averted as Thor let the limp body slide to the floor.

He threw her a curious glance. “You find it in your heart to pity these…” He paused, seemingly checking himself. “Our captors.”

“Not all frost giants are monsters,” she said.

He grunted, then stripped the dead Jotun of his dagger, turning it over in his hands a few times. “Lead on.”

 

* * *

 

“Just listen to them,” said Loki.

Darcy listened. The mood at the council meeting this morning was tense, the debate circling the outskirts of the issue with the Hulk running loose somewhere in the far regions of Asgard.

“In its human form it seems harmless, even weak,” said one man with a golden, braided beard. “Perhaps if we were to fire at it from a distance…”

“Nuh-uh,” said Darcy quietly to Loki. “Bruce tried to kill himself once, Kurt Cobain style. Gun in his mouth, fully prepared to blow his own brains out. It didn’t work. The Hulk defends itself.”

“A pity,” said Loki. His eyes went unseeing for a while as he replied as Odin.

They were leaning against the back wall, shielded by Loki’s spells, and in Odin’s seat sat one of his shades, in the shape of the Allfather. It was beyond Darcy how he could talk to her, listen to the councilors and control a second version of himself, pretty much all at the same time. She wondered how exactly it worked; if he felt the table under the arms of his shade as well as… An impulse struck her, and she reached over to grab at Loki’s leg. Odin suddenly fell quiet and shifted in his seat, then cleared his throat and gave the word to an older woman with curly hair and a strict, blue dress.

Loki turned to her. “What?” he said, looking at her intently.

“Just checking,” said Darcy innocently.

“Did you want something?”

“Not really, no.”

She had to thank her lucky star that even Loki’s looks couldn't kill. “Very amusing,” he said, then turned his attention to the table again, where Odin was sitting, staring into space.

“Allfather…?” the woman said uncertainly.

“Mm?” said Odin.

“I was simply suggesting that perhaps the rangers should be led by... someone with enough _power_ to handle the monster.” She looked like she half expected to be flogged in public for making an actual suggestion, and a couple of the other council members shifted uneasily.

“The ranging will be led by Saga,” said Odin, nodding to a younger woman at the table. “Your aim is to drive him past the border and into the Gullvidr. I await your report by nightfall.”

“My liege,” said Saga and nodded, and the room seemed to draw a collective sigh of relief.

Darcy poked Loki again, and he half turned to her. “They wanted you to lead the ranging,” she said.

He scoffed. “That would be a singularly dim-witted thing to do,” he said, leaving Darcy to wonder why exactly it was such a bad idea.

The council was disbanded soon after, but a few members lingered after Loki's shade had left, and Loki himself seemed in no hurry to leave either.

“Who are they?” asked Darcy as those who had stayed behind seated themselves again.

Loki pointed each of them out in turn. “Saga is the captain of Asgard’s rangers. A cousin to Sif, although thankfully less of a hotheaded halfwit. The dullard with the unsightly beard is Jarl, an envoy from Vanaheim. The presumptuous old hag in the blue is Eir, an adequate healer, and the one with the quill and parchment is Sigmund. An observer, much like his grandfather.”

It took a few seconds before realization struck Darcy. “That’s Heimdall’s grandson?” she asked. “How old is he? He doesn’t look…” She trailed off as she remembered she was talking to someone more than forty times her own age.

“Heimdall? Some four thousand years, I believe.”

“I suppose that’s enough time to knock a few chicks up,” said Darcy quietly.

The man Loki had called Jarl stood and motioned for silence.

“This is when council truly begins,” said Loki with a wry smile. 

What followed was a much more candid discussion of the events of last night, with a fair amount of Odin-bashing, some of which had Darcy worried for the safety of the council members. Loki, however, seemed to take it well. 

“Is it always like this?” she asked after a while.

“Always. For as long as I can remember. The only difference is that Odin didn’t hold councils.”

Darcy frowned. “Then why do you?”

“My mother spent much of her time acting as a mediator between the Asgardians and Odin. I don’t have that time.”

“So you round them all up in one convenient place and then spy on them?”

“More or less.” He glanced at her curiously, a half-smile playing about his lips. “Tell me, Darcy Lewis, what do you see here?”

Darcy shrugged. “It’s in the nature of middle-management to whine about the CEO.” Loki’s expression was blank. “What I mean is… No matter how good a leader is, there’s always going to be gossip and complaints. It’s what minions do, right? Generally, dictators think it’s a bad idea to let the lower standing members of society organize themselves, but you’ve pretty much set up a union for them. So I find that a bit odd.” She glanced at him. “Given your previous track record as the self-proclaimed ruler of Earth.”

“That,” said Loki, “is _not_ what I’m doing here. Although I suppose one cannot expect them to simply shake off a few thousand years of tyranny in a heartbeat.”

Darcy had seen him play the reasonable ruler at court. No doubt to further some scheme or other, but she had to agree that he was far from the Kim Jong Un of Asgard she’d imagined he’d be. “Was Odin really all that bad?” she asked.

“Oh, he was beyond doubt even worse. You’ve heard Thor’s version, after all.”

“I have. And it probably wasn’t much brighter than yours, believe it or not.”

He snorted. “I don’t.”

“You should have let those two sort out their differences on their own, you know.”

Loki narrowed his eyes. “Should I, now?” He seemed to be on the verge of going on another rant about how little she knew him, but then Jarl stood again and they both turned their attention to him instead.

“Friends,” he said. “What I am about to disclose must never reach the ears of Odin.”

“Oh, this should be good,” said Loki.

“Sigmund, a ward, if you please.”

Sigmund, who had been taking notes, snapped his head up from his parchment to look at Jarl. “Rest assured, Heimdall will not–”

“We cannot afford to take any chances,” Jarl interrupted.

The mood in the room had suddenly turned tense, and the easy smirk Loki had been wearing died on his lips as Sigmund rose and began weaving an intricate pattern in the air while muttering something under his breath.

“Get away from the wall,” said Loki and grabbed Darcy's arm, pulling her forwards along with him.

All around them, the walls were becoming clouded by a dark smoke that seemed to grow out of nowhere, coiling inky black tendrils over the tiles until the strange fog obscured them all.

“What the hell is happening?” asked Darcy.

“This, mortal, is what you would call dark magic.”

Eir rose from the table, drawing herself up. “What is the meaning of this, Jarl?”

“A messenger has come through from Vanaheim.” He paused, possibly for added drama, and looked around at the others, finally turning towards the ranger captain. “Saga, your cousin is gathering an army, and they are marching on Asgard.”

Saga rose so quickly her chair toppled over backwards, and Loki swore through his teeth.

“Why?” asked Saga.

“When Odin refuses to protect the Realms and Thor can no longer be counted on, someone must act. Sif has realized this, and it is time that we do, too.”

“Have a care what you say,” warned Eir. “Keeping this from Odin is–”

“Essential,” Jarl interrupted. “He will not live forever, and without an heir…”

“This is treason you speak of, make no mistake!” said Eir hotly.

“Is it?” said Jarl.

“He’s going to play the ‘greater good’ card,” said Darcy to Loki who was making strangled noises next to her.

“Is it treason when it is for the good of Asgard? For the good of Vanaheim, and for all the Nine Realms? You _know_ that I am right.”

“Classic usurper speech,” said Darcy happily.

“Quiet!” hissed Loki.

“If we ally with Sif, no blood need be spilled. Asgard needs stability, firm and decisive leadership…"

“And you will supply that?” asked Saga.

“Me?” Jarl managed to sound sufficiently shocked by the suggestion. “No, no, Saga. I know my place. This is not about the succession, but about protecting our home! Politics will come later.”

As the discussion went on, Darcy watched Loki. He was furious, she could tell.

“How close to the throne is he?” she asked.

“He is galaxies away,” said Loki, his fingers brushing over the place where he kept his dagger hidden.

“Any sons? Daughters? Connections to nobles?”

“His daughter is married to one of Týr's sons,” said Loki.

“And does he have a grandson by her, by any chance?”

He swore again and reached under his coat. Darcy put her hand on his arm, quite gently. 

“What good would it do?” she asked. 

Loki drew a breath, then paused and gave a little laugh. “No, indeed.” He turned towards her and touched her wrist, and a brief second later she felt the magical bracelet twine itself around her arm. With a strange little smile, he let her hand slip through his fingers and said, “Good luck, Darcy Lewis,” before disappearing.

She sighed. “I really wish you would stop doing that.”

 

* * *

 

“Selvig.”

“Adelsten. Long time no see.”

“Yes, thank God.” Professor Adelsten turned to Pepper. “That man is not welcome in my car, not to mention my house.”

They were standing in the parking lot at Uppsala University, bundled up in warm clothes, all packed and ready for a trip to a more remote part of Sweden. Pepper flashed Adelsten a friendly smile. “Professor, I’m sorry for the trouble Dr. Selvig has caused you in the past, and I’m sure he’s sorry too. However, I need him for this.”

“You need me more.”

Selvig gave a loud snort, and after a glance from Pepper, Barton casually laid his hand on his arm and led him away, asking questions about a snow-capped statue some way away.

“I'm good with numbers, but not that good,” said Pepper.

“This is magic, not mathematics.”

“Tell me, professor... How much do they pay you?”

Adelsten motioned at her car; a brown Saab from what looked like the Cold War era. “How much do you think?”

Pepper fished out her check book and scribbled down a sizable figure, then showed it to Adelsten. “As I said, I'm not the best with numbers, but does this look like a good one to you?"

Professor Adelsten’s eyes went wide for a second, then she composed herself. “Ahem. Is that dollars or kronor?”

“I'm American. We don’t do foreign currency.”

Adelsten sucked at her teeth, threw another glance at her car, then sighed. “He sits in the back, all right?”

Pepper tore off the check and handed it to the professor. “I’m sure Barton will be thrilled.”

 

Seeing Clint squashed up next to Erik Selvig in the backseat was almost worth all the discomfort of Adelsten's prehistoric car with its busted muffler and lack of heating. Pepper had suggested other means of transportation, but the professor had insisted on driving herself. 

“Where exactly are we going?” said Clint, half shouting to make himself heard over the noise of the engine.

“I have a summer house in Dalarna,” said Adelsten. “It's perfect for what you're about to do.”

“Very _magical_ area, I suppose,” said Selvig mockingly.

Adelsten laughed. “You silly man. The magic does not depend on the land, but on the skill of the witch.”

“Any particular reason we can’t do it back in Uppsala then?” asked Clint.

“I thought you said you preferred a secluded place? Besides, I need my supplies.”

“Just how secluded is it?”

“ _The estimated time of arrival in Leksand is in three hours and seven minutes, assuming no stops, Agent Barton_ ,” came a voice from the car stereo, and Professor Adelsten stared at it, bewildered.

“Don’t hijack other people’s electronics, JARVIS,” said Pepper. “It's rude.”

“ _Sorry, Miss Potts_.”

“That’s ages away!” complained Clint.

“At least you’re not getting your legs squashed by a pile of luggage,” said Pepper, trying to get comfortable with her bags and the dark green suitcase stacked in her lap, blocking most of the view of the road.

“At least you _have_ somewhere to put your legs.”

“Care to explain this?” said Selvig, shoving a Swedish newspaper in her face.

Pepper looked at it. The words were all mumbo-jumbo to her, but she recognized the picture of the Nobel Museum. “What does it say?”

“Apparently there was a break-in several days back. Nothing was stolen, but the police are now appealing to the public for reports of any sightings of a man dressed in black. With a double recurve bow.”

Barton huffed. “What are they going to do? Arrest me for owning a bow?”

“Well, yes. This is Sweden, you know. What were you doing there anyway? Isn’t that where the transdimensional transporter device was being kept? You have cleared all of this with S.H.I.E.L.D, right?”

“Those who need to know, know,” said Pepper and handed back the newspaper. 

Just then, something close by made a strange, jingling noise. She frowned and started rearranging the bags in her lap in an attempt to find the source of the sound, and after a certain amount of digging around, she was able to fish out the box with the TD17. It was whirring and bleeping in a way that she’d never seen before.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” said Selvig. “You _did_ steal something!”

“This was developed using _my_ money, Dr. Selvig. I hardly think you could accuse me of stealing it.”

“Why is it making that noise?”

Pepper looked at the TD with its blinking lights and spinning dials. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

 

* * *

 

“This should work,” said Jane, hearing desperation creep into her voice. “Why isn’t it working?” She tapped the TD lightly a couple of times, but despite all her previous testing, there was an alarming lack of transdimensional portals in the lab. She tried hitting less gently with no result.

“Maybe we need to be outside, and not down here,” suggested Thor.

“Maybe,” she said doubtfully. The TD seemed dead to the world.

“We should leave, Jane. Someone will think to look here.”

As if on cue, the light filtering into the lab from the doorway was blocked by a shadow. “Indeed they will,” said Vakti. The look of disappointment in his eyes as he glared at Jane was heartbreaking.

“Only one?” said Thor, tossing the oversized dagger from one hand to the other.

“Don’t,” said Jane, laying a hand on his arm. “Not him. Just let us go and we won’t hurt you,” she called out to Vakti.

“We won’t?” asked Thor.

Vakti began moving forwards, and Jane quickly snatched out a vial. “This is what killed your friend in the dungeon,” she said. “Don’t come any closer.” Slowly, she shuffled towards the back door of the lab, and Thor followed reluctantly. 

“You will not get far,” said the frost giant. Behind him, more guards were appearing.

“Run,” said Jane and began fumbling with the quartzite.

“What?” asked Thor and Vakti as one.

The lace caught fire. “I said run. Now!”

 

* * *

 

Darcy wondered what Loki had meant by his last comment. Good luck? It had sounded strangely like goodbye to her. _I should be so lucky_ , she thought, and a little thrill of discomfort shot down her spine. It _would_ be good riddance, she told herself, then sighed and turned over on her side, trying not to think about the way his fingers had brushed over her wrist. Of course, that immediately became the _only_ thing she could think of. She was lying on the bed in her apartments, having returned there once the council had properly disbanded, nursing some secret and shameful hope that Loki would come and find her eventually. That had been hours ago. Pushing those thoughts away, she turned the pillow over, pressing her cheek against the cool, silky cover. A breeze blew in from the open door to the balcony, and as it caressed her arm, she was brought back to the night before. She became aware of a dull pounding between her legs, and flushed hotly as she realized she was getting turned on from thinking about… She frowned. It had suddenly become very quiet. Darcy sat up, looking around. It was as if someone had just turned off a fridge that had been buzzing for so long you didn’t notice it until it stopped.

“Hello?” she ventured.

Even the air felt different, less dense. Something had gone away. Something that had been here since she arrived. She scrambled off the bed, hurried over to the door and opened it, expecting to feel the slight tingle of the magical barrier as she passed over the threshold, but there was nothing. Her heart fluttered wildly, and she reached down for the bracelet. When she pulled at it, it slipped off easily, and Darcy suddenly felt very afraid. She put it back on and pressed her fingers against it.

“Loki?” she said.

The bracelet looked somehow duller and more ordinary to Darcy, and she wished she knew what it meant. Presumably, she was now free of whatever magic that had been connecting her with Loki. It probably also meant that she was lacking his protection. For a few moments she wavered, thinking at first to go back inside her apartment and wait there, but an dreadful mix of fear and curiosity drove her down the corridor instead. There was no one around to be seen, but she made an effort to walk calmly and regally, hoping she would pass for an Asgardian as long as she didn’t bump into anyone who recognized her from the trial. As it turned out, the first person she did bump into wasn’t an Asgardian at all.

It was, in fact, Captain America.

Darcy froze in her step as she gazed down the hallway. It couldn't be. It simply couldn’t.

“Miss Lewis! Are you all right?” The star-spangled superhero started jogging towards her. “Things are crazy down there. Loki, alive! Can you believe it? We’ve been looking all over for you. We thought maybe he'd done something...”

Darcy fumbled for words. “We?” she managed. _Hot damn, he’s big_ , she thought.

Steve Rogers looked at her with concern. “Miss? Has he treated you..?”

She snapped out of her daze. “What? No! I’m fine. I’m… What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’ll explain on the way. Right now, we gotta go.” He started back down the way he’d come, and Darcy hurried after him.

“Wait,” she said then, stopping. “What happened to him? Loki, I mean.”

Steve put his hand gently on her back, urging her along. “Don’t worry about him. He won’t hurt you now.”

“No,” she said, stopping again. “I mean, where is he? We can’t just…” she bit her lip. How could she possibly have justified what she had been about to say?

He stopped as well, and turned towards her. “Are you sure you’re all right?” His eyes were searching hers. “Loki is manipulative. He can’t be trusted. You know that.”

“I know,” she said. “But I’m not leaving without him.”

“Oh, good,” said Steve and let his shoulders slump. With the now familiar shimmer, Captain America turned into Loki. He looked haggard and drawn, as if he’d gone days without sleeping. “I couldn’t have kept that up for much longer.”

Darcy felt sick. “You piece of shit,” she said, angry tears stinging her eyes. “You _asshole_.”

Loki threw her a tired glance, took a deep breath, then began raising a shield. This time it didn’t look as effortless as it usually did, and sweat was breaking out on his forehead before he was done. 

“What happened to you?” she asked, then immediately wanted to kill herself for worrying about this douchebag.

“We need to leave Asgard,” he said, took her hand and started leading her down the corridor.

“Why?”

“Because Odin is about to wake up, and I doubt very much he’ll be pleased to see me.”


	9. She Who Fights and Runs Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3's new interface has been giving me all sorts of trouble tonight. I think I fiddled with this 4 times before being able to post! If you see anything strange (formatting or otherwise), give us a shout! This is sort of long. I...apologise? 
> 
> As always, I kneel before my almighty beta, [DaemonMeg](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DaemonMeg/pseuds/DaemonMeg).

Awareness was second nature to Heimdall. Minuscule details and vast landscapes, kings and newborn babes alike were forever drifting in and out of focus in the mosaic of his mind. Becoming aware that he had been unaware was always devastating. He heard the faint ring of a spell breaking, and suddenly he was _aware_. He snapped his head around. _Mjölnir_. Had it been here ever since the Midgardians arrived? And then, he was truly aware. Of Odin, stirring as if waking from a long sleep. Of Darcy Lewis, the woman who had disappeared, stealing out of a room in the palace. Of Sif and the Warriors Three, and of their unlikely allies. Of Thor and Jane Foster, deep in the bowels of Angerboda’s keep. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Loosing his sword in his sheath, Heimdall ran.

Odin was still abed in his chambers, looking more worn than in months, worse even than after Frigga’s passing. As Heimdall approached the bed, Odin slowly turned to him.

“Heimdall…” he said, voice thin and broken.

“My liege.” He leaned over his king, searching for signs that he was hurt.

Odin’s hand shot out, grasping about Heimdall’s neck, his grip surprisingly strong for one looking so weak. “Who let you out of your prison?”

“My…king?” said Heimdall, choking. “You…you did.”

The look Odin gave him was uncomprehending and filled with rage. Icy cold shivers ran down Heimdall’s spine. This was not the Allfather that had sat the throne in the past year. This was not… With a mighty shove at the bed frame, he scrambled away from Odin’s side, but his mind was already elsewhere, roaming, searching, frantically looking for traces that might confirm his suspicions. Briefly, he registered that the mortal, Darcy Lewis, was once more hidden from him. _How?_ Only a very skilled magician would be able to… Realization struck Heimdall like lightning. 

_Loki_.

* * *

 

“Odin? _Wake up?_ But–”

“There's really no time to explain now,” said Loki and pulled her along. 

As they walked, he seemed to regain some of his usual swagger. He was still holding her hand, and Darcy tried to worm it out of his grip. 

“Please don’t,” he said.

She eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”

“I’m using the energy that you're not. It's easier this way.”

_Using the energy?_ With a firm tug, she pulled her hand away. He gave her a withering look, but kept walking. With Loki’s shield soon pushing against her, she had no choice but to follow. Before long, Darcy realized they were on their way outside.

“Where are we going?” she asked as they stepped out into the gardens.

“Vanaheim.”

“That's where Sif is, right? Is it far?”

“Yes.”

“How far?”

Loki gave a weary sigh. “It's another realm.”

“What, another _world?_ ”

“You seemed eager enough to travel quite far to save Thor and that woman yesterday.”

“So that’s what we’re doing?” Darcy was curious enough to give him the benefit of the doubt for now, but she still had a million and one questions. “I'm sorry, I'm not that familiar with these realms of yours, but is Vanaheim really on the way to Jotunheim?”

“You can't simply walk into Jotunheim unprepared,” said Loki irritably. “And certainly not unarmed.”

“Ah,” said Darcy. “The army. Sif's army.”

Loki grunted and picked up the pace as they made their way past the aviaries with the crystalline birds. As they were approaching the high walls encircling the gardens, a loud horn sounded from somewhere behind them, ringing out with a fierce, clear note. An Asgardian sitting on a bench nearby flew to her feet and set off towards the palace as they walked past. All around them, people were suddenly hurrying inside.

“What's going on?” asked Darcy. “What was that noise?”

“Heimdall's horn,” said Loki in a short voice.

“What does it mean?”

“It means Odin is awake.”

“Right,” said Darcy and snorted. “That again. You know, this would be an excellent time to have that talk about what happened to Odin that you promised me once.”

“To be perfectly honest, I couldn't think of a _worse_ time,” said Loki.

They were headed straight for the immense wall, and as far as she could see, there was no gate here. There was only the ivy-covered slabs, rising up and up and up; it was at least forty feet tall, if Darcy was any judge. Once they reached it, however, Loki spoke a few words, and the green vines drew apart to reveal a small door without handle or lock. When he laid his hand on it, it clicked faintly and swung outward. Darcy didn’t as much as blink. With everything she had seen so far, a magical, hidden passageway seemed pretty standard.

Loki reached out his hand. “Please,” he said. “I don't have time for you stumbling along behind me.”

She only hesitated for a second, and as she put her hand in his, she felt the slight tingle of his magic. He led her inside the wall where a narrow, winding stair was leading down into unknown, dark depths. Loki raised his free hand and a pale yellow glow sprung from beneath his fingers to light their way. Down, down and down the stairs went, twisting this way and that, until she lost all sense of time and direction. When they finally reached the bottom and a door, she fully expected it to lead into an underground tunnel. Instead, the bright light of day blinded her as Loki pushed the door open and led her outside. Blinking like an owl, Darcy stumbled after him, looking around and taking in their surroundings. What she saw was nothing short of amazing.

Behind them was Asgard, and from this side, its walls stood as tall as a skyscraper. Here at the base, they were roughly hewn, carved out from the mountainside itself. Higher up - much higher - she could glimpse the smooth blocks of granite and the parapet where guards seemed to be milling about. Ahead was a forest, and it was unlike anything she had ever seen before. There was hardly any undergrowth, and the trees stood straight and tall, their bark and leaves shimmering with the color of warm, red gold. Loki led her into the woods, walking straight ahead, seemingly without looking for a path or landmarks.

“What is this place?” asked Darcy, sauntering along behind him.

“This is the Gullviđr. The Golden Forest. As soon as we’ve passed beyond its borders, we’ll be safer.”

She realized they were still holding hands, so she pulled hers away again. “Look,” she said, stopping, then felt herself being pushed forwards by Loki’s shield. Leaning against it, she let her Asgardian sandals slide and scrape across the grass as she was pulled along. “I’m all for rescuing Thor, but I’m not even sure I’m rooting for the right team at the moment. You need to tell me–”

Loki stopped short and spun around. “I _need_ to tell you?”

“Yes!” Darcy staggered and slipped over. Instead of getting up again, she crossed her legs and remained sitting on the ground. “I’ve put up with this for a while now, and I’ve had enough. Either you tell me what the hell is going on, or you go on on your own, or carry me, or kill me, but I’m not moving until I get some answers.”

Loki reached down, grabbed her wrist and attempted to pull her along, but she made herself go limp, with the result that he dragged her behind him for a few yards. With an irritated grunt, he stopped and glared at her, then hoisted her into his arms instead. That wasn’t what Darcy had expected, although to be fair, she had suggested it herself. At first, it felt like he carried her with unnatural ease, as if she was nothing but a mildly inconveniently shaped package of cotton wool, but before long he was sweating, his breathing coming heavy and irregular.

“I guess not even you can drag a hundred and thirty pounds around forever,” she said.

“Normally I could,” he said between gritted teeth. “I need to rest.”

“I don’t mind stopping.” She looked around her at the trees, up at the gleaming, red branches that swayed gently in a breeze she couldn’t feel. “This forest is very pretty.”

With another grunt, Loki put her down, and he slumped to the ground, seemingly exhausted. Darcy felt a chill pass through her and knelt next to him.

“You weren’t kidding, were you? What happened back there?”

He sat there for the longest time just breathing, his eyes closed. When he finally spoke, it sounded like even forming words took tremendous effort. “I spent myself waking Odin.”

That Odin was alive she was almost prepared to believe, but she rapidly waved aside the idea that he had brought him back as another ruse. Still, there was no denying that he seemed out of shape. “Spent? Your magic is finite?”

He shook his head. “No. As I said, I need rest. Hiding us is hard enough without having to haul you around.”

“Then don’t haul me around.”

“You think staying in Asgard means freedom? You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“So tell me,” she said. “Stop giving me these cryptic hints and just tell me.”

“So you can dismiss what I say as lies?” he said, snapping his head around to look at her. She met his gaze levelly, and his expression softened a bit. He turned away again and snorted softly. “Oh, I understand well enough and take no offense. After all, I made a name of my ability to bend the truth.”

“You can try me,” said Darcy

He stared ahead of him for several long minutes, then gave a deep sigh. “Very well. I stole a throne, then offered it to Thor. He did not want it. I let him go where his heart desired. He will have told you all of this. I ruled in Odin’s stead, keeping him asleep with my spells. I did not kill him. Now he is woken, and I leave my home because I fear him. Can you believe that?” He paused and glanced at her, so she nodded reluctantly in agreement. He continued. “And you. I bring you with me from Asgard, even though it will hamper me severely. I could have tortured you, kept you in chains, _killed_ you, but did I?”

“Is that supposed to make me trust you? Listing all the horrible things you could have done but didn’t do?” 

“I didn’t ask you to trust me, I asked you to believe me. You think yourself clever, Darcy,” he said, and she nearly flinched at the familiar use of her name. “Examine what you know to be true and draw your own conclusions.”

* * *

Pepper turned the TD this way and that. She was itching to press the buttons and turn the dials, but Adelsten’s cramped car wasn’t an ideal place to accidentally open a wormhole.

“Is there somewhere we can pull over?” she asked.

“Yes, I could do with a coffee,” said Selvig.

“I need the bathroom,” said Clint.

There was a gas station a couple of miles down the road, and Pepper bought them a round of burnt-smelling, tar-like coffee in the adjoining diner, then took out the TD17 and placed it on the table. 

“Erik, you know a bit about Dr. Foster’s research, not to mention your previous work for S.H.I.E.L.D. Do you know how to use this thing?”

Erik Selvig eyed the device suspiciously. “You’re the one married to Stark. Don’t _you_ know?”

The mention of Tony made something catch in her chest, and she gave him a strained smile. “We’re not married. And I’ve been… I’ve been busy with other things.”

He grabbed the TD and carefully turned it over in his hands. “This is the entry point,” he said. “What you need is an exit.”

“What do you mean?”

“He means you need a destination,” interjected Adelsten. “A fixed point of arrival.”

Pepper glanced at Selvig, who shrugged and nodded. “I hate to say it, but she's right. You use these dials to set the coordinates. They need to be very exact, of course. You don't want to step through a wormhole and end up in the middle of nowhere. Or rather, the middle of nothing.”

Pepper frowned. “How are we supposed to know exactly where Tony is?”

“And Na- Agent Romanov,” said Barton.

Adelsten smiled and motioned with her hand as if waving a wand about. “Witchcraft,” she said, and Selvig gave a deep sigh.

“Does it work anything like the Tesseract?” asked Clint. “‘Cause that...thing needed a destination as well, and something at the other end of it.”

“No,” said Pepper. “That much I know. It was supposed to work around that whole problem. The Bifrost, for instance, operates without a corresponding gateway…”

“…Using witchcraft,” said Adelsten.

"I think they prefer the term magic," said Pepper.

“You say tomato…”

“You're half right, Miss Potts,” said Erik. “This device, as far as I understand, can open a portal singlehandedly, but it's also been designed to work with a twin, for a quicker process.”

“Huh,” said Barton. “So if you have a bunch of these, you could create some kind of instantaneous wormhole public transport system?”

“Pretty much.” Selvig put the TD down on the table again.

“Hang on,” said Pepper. “All that blinking and whirring that was going on before… I thought maybe that was just me pushing some button by accident, but are you saying that someone else could actually _contact_ this machine?”

“If they had another one, yes.” He flipped open a latch on the side of the device, revealing a digital display, then spent a few minutes fiddling and muttering to himself in Swedish. At long last, he gave a contented grunt. “There. Flip this switch to turn on the broadcasting. Kind of like the Bat-signal, you know?”

Pepper looked at the TD, and at the flip-button Selvig had pointed out. The two prototypes before this one had been semi-functional, she knew. And one of those was accounted for - S.H.I.E.L.D had it now, and as far as she knew, no one on their end knew enough about it to actually use it. And the other… The other had gone missing some time ago. If someone was trying to communicate, it would likely be one of three people. She snatched the device up and stared at it intently. _Was that you, Tony?_

“I think someone might have another one,” she said.

“So that’s how they opened that wormhole in Stockholm!” said Clint.

“No,” said Pepper, then checked herself and frowned. “At least I don’t think so.” Suddenly, the thought of trying to contact someone using the TD was a little less appealing.

“Loki wouldn’t need a device like that,” said Adelsten then, and the entire table turned around to look at her.

“Loki?” said Pepper, confused.

“Loki?” said Barton in a dangerously low voice.

“Yes, Loki,” said Adelsten, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Loki,” whispered Selvig. “Loki is dead. He’s _dead_. Dead!” He slammed his hands down on the table and glared at Adelsten.

Professor Adelsten scoffed. “So he would have you believe. He’s pulled that trick before, hasn’t he?”

“What would you know of it?” asked Pepper.

“Like you said, not all of my research is published. The signs are clear! The rune, for one; the rune of the giants, the rune of transformation and chaos. And you said yourself that whoever opened that rift was interested in Thor. It must be him!” Her eyes were glittering in an almost fanatical way. 

“That’s crazy,” said Pepper, but doubt was gnawing in her breast.

“Finally!” said Selvig. “This is what I’ve been saying all along! She’s crazy!”

“I wouldn't put it past him,” said Barton, and Pepper could see he was fiddling with the case that held his folded bow.

“All right,” said Pepper. “Loki or no Loki, I still think that if anyone else is using a TD, it’s either Tony, Jane or Bruce. And I still intend to find out.”

Selvig stood abruptly. “I need the bathroom. Now.”

“We’ll be out front,” said Pepper, took one last swig of coffee, then rose and motioned for the others to follow.

Once outside, she held out the TD17 for Clint and Adelsten to see. “Right. I’m going to flip the switch.”

“I suggest we wait until we get to my house,” said Adelsten.

“And I suggest you kindly refrain from asking me to wait when my friends and loved ones are potentially in life-threatening danger and trying to get a hold of me. JARVIS, is the Mark 4 ready? Just in case.”

“ _Always, Miss Potts_.”

“Good.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

 

* * *

 

Jane’s lungs were burning with exhaustion, and the metallic taste in her mouth made her want to spit. As they rounded a corner, she slipped on her soles and had to cling onto Thor’s arm to avoid falling, but the satchel where she’d stuffed the TD went flying. The noise it made as it slid across the floor and into the wall was sickening.

“No,” she said and scrambled after it. “No, no, no.” Snatching it up, she fumbled it open to survey the damage. Inside, the device was suddenly alive, whirring and bleeping. Jane gaped at it.

“Come, Jane,” said Thor. 

“It’s working!”

“Jane, we must go. Now.” Thor grabbed her hand and began pulling her away.

She stumbled after him, holding up the satchel and watching the TD intently. With a cringe, she noticed that one side of it had been severely smashed, but on the plus side, it seemed to have gained a life of its own. It was actually _working_. Jane barely registered it when Thor lifted her up, hoisted her over his shoulder and started running.

“Amazing,” she said, peering into the bag whilst bobbing up and down in time with Thor’s step. “I need to have a look at this. We need to stop.”

“No, we need to _go_.”

Jane snapped her head up just in time to see several frost giants round the corner behind them. “Yep. You’re right. Go, go, go!”

 

* * *

The TD was beeping steadily, and emitted a warm, orange glow, but the lack of transdimensional rifts appearing was all too evident. Pepper felt her heart sink.

“Whoever it was calling before, I guess they’re busy,” said Clint.

“Like I said, wait until we get to my house,” said Adelsten.

The wind was blowing snow all around them, and Pepper could feel her hands growing stiff in the cold. With a sigh, she turned the switch off and stuffed the TD away in her bag again. “Maybe Selvig will know what to do.” She looked towards the diner. “What’s keeping him anyway?”

“Hey, is that him in your car, professor?” said Clint then.

Adelsten gave a surprised yelp, and Pepper turned around to watch the brown Saab roaring off as fast as the ancient engine would allow. Barton was getting his bow out, but Pepper laid her hand on his arm. “No, put that away. You’re in enough trouble already.”

“ _Miss Potts, may I suggest–_ ”

“For the last time, JARVIS, not unless it’s _absolutely_ necessary!” She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples for a few seconds. “He was afraid, and that’s understandable. We’ll let him go. Professor, I’m afraid your veto on transportation is being overruled. JARVIS, get us some wheels.”

“ _There are a number of used car dealers in Borlänge, five miles–_ ”

“Money is not an issue.”

“ _The local airport has helicopters for hire, Miss Potts._ ”

“Now you’re talking.”

 

* * *

They had managed to lose the Jotuns following them through one more sulfide bomb, and some quick thinking and squeezing through windows on Thor’s part, and now they were finally free of the keep. One massive sprint into the woods later, Thor set her down and flung himself down on the ground while Jane rummaged around inside the satchel. She took out the TD and gently pushed a button. It crunched and stuck, and when she carefully tried to pry it loose, it came shooting out with a metallic _twang_.

“Damn.”

“Does it work?” asked Thor panting, looking up at her.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Are we safe here?”

“Far from it. Listen.”

She did, and from the direction of the keep, she could hear the howling of wolves. “I need time,” she said. “We should probably find a hiding place.”

“If Angerboda has her wargs out, we had better call for help,” said Thor and got to his feet again.

“Help? Who could help us out here?”

“Normally, I would simply fly. But now…” Thor put his hands around his mouth and let loose a sound that Jane imagined a very large, injured cow might make.

“What are you doing?” she hissed. “They’ll hear us.”

“I’m calling Duneyrr,” said Thor. “Come, let us go meet him.”

With her hand in his, Jane stumbled along through the deep drifts of snow. Every so often, Thor would stop and make the strange bleating sound. Behind them, the yapping and howling came closer by the minute.

“Who is Duneyrr and how long will it him to get here?”

Thor stopped short, then smiled. “He is near. I can hear him.”

Jane heard it too, then; a rumble as deep as thunder, growing louder at an alarming rate. Moments later, a huge, blurry shape came crashing towards them with unnatural speed. Shrieking with fear, Jane crouched behind Thor, but the creature scrambled to a halt a few yards away, and she peeked out to look. It was a giant red deer, with shaggy fur, enormous, moss-covered antlers and fiercely intelligent eyes.

“You called me, son of Odin,” it said, and Jane’s jaw dropped. A _talking_ deer.

“Greetings Duneyrr. There is little time for courtesies, I’m afraid. I need your help.”

Duneyrr cocked his head, listening to the approaching wargs. “That much is evident,” he said. “You know my price.”

“I will pay it tenfold,” said Thor.

“Very well,” said Duneyrr, bent his antlered head and knelt gracefully in front of them.

Jane stared, first at the deer, and then at Thor. “You can’t be serious. Please tell me you’re not serious.”

 

* * *

“Are you kidding me?” said Darcy. “Because on my list of preferred modes of transportation, spider-horses are way down. Like, really close to the very end of that list. Bottom three, definitely.” 

They had come across Odin’s horse in a glade not far from Asgard, and judging by Loki’s lack of surprise, it hadn’t been a coincidence. Darcy was reluctant to say the least. Her only experience with horses was falling off a pony at a fun fair when she was five. It’s said that horses take great care not to trample a fallen rider. Evidently, the pony had skipped that class in the school of horse manners.

“We’ll reach the border by nightfall,” said Loki, urging her along.

She eyed the beast with suspicion as she approached it. It was magnificent, no doubt; all sleek, dark coat, feathered hooves and gleaming mane. It was also huge, had eight legs and was rolling its eyes and snorting at Darcy.

“I don’t think it likes me,” she said.

“This is Sleipner,” said Loki. “He won’t harm you.”

“He’s Odin’s, right? Are you sure he’ll be as friendly now that you’re, um, out of character?”

Loki laughed then; a genuine, amused laugh that made him look almost human. “I’m certain,” he said, and his eyes twinkled with mirth.

Darcy looked down at herself. “How am I supposed to ride like this?” She motioned to her pretty yet impractical dress.

“Hmm,” said Loki, turning serious again. “You have a point.” 

He frowned, then spoke a word and flicked his hand. In an instant, Darcy felt her dress tighten around her chest and legs, the cloth worming its way between her thighs, making her whoop in surprise. She watched with fascination as the skirts transformed and grew into a pair of extremely well-fitting jeans. The bodice of the gown sprouted arms and detached itself at the waist, and seconds later, it had formed into a regular sweatshirt, hood and tassels included. It was green. Of course it was green. As a final touch, her sandals had turned into a pair of black riding boots. Well, now she was all out of excuses. Loki raised an eyebrow in question.

“Yes,” she said. “Better. Thank you.”

He magicked forth a bridle, then grabbed Sleipner’s mane and pulled himself easily onto his back. Darcy tried to ignore the fact that her palms were sweaty with nerves, and that her legs had suddenly turned to jelly, and let him pull her up behind him. The back of the horse felt much wider under her thighs than she would have imagined, not to mention more slippery. Sleipner danced a little as she settled, and with a yelp, she grabbed a hold of Loki to steady herself. He glanced back at her.

“I take it you are not an experienced rider,” he said flatly.

She bit back the obvious retort. “No.”

“Then I suppose you had better hold tight,” he said, and the next second, they were off.

After the first few minutes of pure, uninhibited terror, Darcy found herself being able to loosen her grip on Loki just a little, and turn her face up from his back to look around. Sleipner’s gait wasn’t at all as bumpy as she’d thought it would be, but rather a fluent yet rocking motion that looked faster than it felt. The golden trees blurred as they raced past. She felt Loki reach up for her hands with one of his, and as he gently grasped them, clamped as they were across his chest, her heart almost skipped a beat. Then she felt the familiar tingle of magic, and knew he was drawing something from her.

“It’s for the shield,” he said over his shoulder, and as she glanced up at his face, she noticed that he was looking very drawn again.

“Okay,” she said. As much as she hated to admit it, she was beginning to feel concerned for his well-being. 

She also couldn’t help but think about the fact that he kept finding reasons to touch her. Although she had her own suspicions of why exactly Loki had wanted her to come with him from Asgard, he had definitely wanted it to come off as him doing her a kindness; out of pity, perhaps, or something more? As an experiment, she shifted her hands, letting her fingers slip between his to intertwine. He seemed to relax a little, and leaned against her ever so slightly, his back almost flush against her chest. She craned her neck to look at his face, and saw that he had his eyes closed, as if half asleep. 

“Hey,” she said. “No sleeping at the wheel.”

Loki snorted and smiled, but kept his eyes shut, seemingly content with letting Sleipner go where he pleased.

It was several hours later, when the sun was sinking and turning the leaves the color of blood, that they finally slowed to a walk. Even though the ride had been less unpleasant than expected, Darcy still felt as though she’d spent an entire week on an exercycle. When Loki motioned to her to get off, it was all she could do to keep herself upright as she touched down on the ground again. Her legs were shaking badly, and her ass was so sore it had given up on pain and crossed over to numb. Still, Loki seemed much worse off than her. Pale and shining with sweat, he slid off Sleipner and slumped to the ground. With a slow wave of the hand, he rid the stallion of its bridle, and the horse sauntered off to graze nearby. 

Darcy heard a faint ringing, and suddenly felt a light breeze on her face. The smells and sounds of the forest invaded her senses, and she realized Loki’s shield was gone, and glanced his way. He was lying down, eyes closed. 

“Are we safe here?” she asked.

“Safe enough.”

She looked around. They were in a small clearing, and from somewhere nearby, she could hear the sound of running water. The ground was mostly covered in soft, yellow grass, but some way away she could see an old fire pit. Presumably, this was a spot known to Loki. She turned back to him. If it hadn’t been for his chest still rising and sinking slowly, she might have taken him for dead. 

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

He opened his eyes to look at her. Then, from out of nowhere, he pulled out a small sack with a drawstring and held it up. Darcy took it and looked inside. There was food in the bag, and she almost squealed with joy.

“First we eat,” said Loki. “Then we find kindling for a fire.”

 

* * *

 

At the first slight tremor, Natasha snapped her eyes open and sat up. It was still dark inside the tent that she shared with Sif, but she could make out the shape of her warrior friend next to her, and knew then that dawn wasn’t far away. She touched Sif’s shoulder gently, only to receive a reply in the form of a sleepy grunt. Natasha wondered briefly if she had simply imagined the ground shaking, but then came another tremor, definitely too real to ignore.

“Sif,” said Natasha and nudged her again.

“Mmph,” said Sif and rolled over. 

Natasha shrugged, then aimed a kick at Sif’s behind.

The Asgardian woman gave a pained noise. “Odin’s beard!” she said and sat up. “What was that for?”

“For not staying alert.”

“It’s Hogun’s watch. It’s _his_ duty to stay alert.”

“Well, he’s not doing a very good job. Someone’s coming.”

Sif grew still, and they both listened. The ground shook again, and with a sigh, Sif threw herself back down onto her sleeping furs. “Finally,” she said, then promptly went back to sleep.

Natasha slipped out of the tent, feeling the cool dew in the grass under her fingers. Away east (or at least what she thought of as east), the sky was turning grey, and the distant hills were visible as an outline against the coming dawn. She was surprised to find Tony sitting some way away, fiddling with something.

“You’re up early,” she said, coming to stand next to him.

“Never went to bed,” he said.

In his hands was some kind of rough mechanism, made from leather straps, a few pieces of twisted metal and what looked like a handmade coil spring.

“What are you doing?” she asked, even though she was fairly certain he was making some kind of weapon. This leopard still had a fair few spots left, no matter how fiercely he liked to deny it.

“Just keeping my hands busy,” he said, slipping the contraption around his arm and pulling on the straps to tighten it. “I get insomnia, and it helps.”

“It helps you sleep?”

“It helps me stop thinking about the fact that I don’t.” 

She could relate to that, but had neither the urge nor time to tell him so. The tremors were growing, and now she could hear it, too. A steady rumble, as from a slow, constant landslide.

“Can you hear that noise?” asked Tony.

“Yes,” she said, turning again towards the pale dawn and the distant horizon.

For a few moments, everything was still, and then they came. In the thousands they came, over the hill, down into the valley where they had made camp. Soon, the slopes were covered with men marching in disarray, milling about like ants.

Tony had been gaping in silence for a while. “What the hell is that,” he said finally.

“That,” said Natasha, “would be Sif’s army.”

 

* * *

She woke from some noise, and for a long while she lay completely still, listening out for it. When what must have been several minutes had passed, she sat up, groaning slightly as she felt how sore her body was. The light was grey, and dawn wasn't far off, so she threw aside her blanket and stretched, trying to work some of the stiffness out of her back. She couldn’t see Sleipner anywhere; presumably he was somewhere nearby. It struck her that the horse was probably responsible for the sound she had heard, and she relaxed a little. Loki was still asleep on the other side of the cold ashes from last night's fire, and after watching him for a little while, some inexplicable urge made her shuffle over to him. Under normal circumstances she was sure he'd be wide awake at this point, but the exhaustion seemed to have knocked him out pretty bad.

Darcy took the opportunity to look at him more closely. His face was handsome when relaxed, almost bordering on pretty. A long nose, well-shaped eyebrows, and cheekbones to die for. For some reason, her heart chose that moment to start beating hard, and she felt a strange jolt shoot from her belly and down her thighs. She thought back to the weird little moment they had had on the balcony, and about how they’d held hands for literally hours yesterday, and shivered again. Was she just imagining the tension between them? No, she couldn’t be. And that was good. It was what he wanted, and if she let him believe that he had her hooked… She bit her lip. For someone playing a guy, she was spending an awful lot of time convincing herself that she wasn’t attracted. Of course, there was no denying that he was, in fact, very attractive. _Stop it, Darcy_ , she thought, but found that she couldn't tear her eyes away from his face. His dark hair was messy, a clump of it stuck to his temple, presumably in the dried sweat from yesterday. Without thinking, she reached out to push it aside.

There was no warning, nothing to alert her that he was awake; his hand simply shot out and grabbed her wrist in a viselike grip. She winced in pain and he snapped his eyes open, then relaxed his hold on her a little.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I heard a noise,” she said. That much was true.

His eyes flickered back and forth between hers. “Yes, I heard it too. I’ve been trying to listen for it, but you’re making it hard.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to think on her feet. If there was something between them, now would be an excellent time to find out, and perhaps turn his own tricks against him. One crazy thought after another flitted through her head, and for some reason, the only one that stuck was that this might be her one chance in life to kiss a god. Before she could change her mind, she bent down and did precisely that.

Loki went stiff with surprise under her, but only for a second. Then, as she drew back, he grabbed at her hair with his free hand and pulled her down again. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t subtle, and her wrist was still firmly in his grip as they kissed hard enough to bruise. Thinking it was either the most stupid or the most successfully deceitful thing she had done in her life, Darcy wrenched his arm aside with hers, and with her lips still on his threw her leg over him so that she was straddling his waist. He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan that hummed against her mouth, and the sound of it was maddening. She tried to press against him, but her arm was still awkwardly bent away.

“Let go of me,” she mumbled against his lips and he did, so quickly she was almost certain he’d been unaware that he was still holding her wrist.

His kisses grew softer as well, less desperate and more purposeful. Darcy took a hold of his hands and placed them on her hips. Soon, he had them running up and down the sides of her thighs and she tried rather unsuccessfully not to moan. Pretending to enjoy herself was far easier than she’d expected, and what she had meant to be a light kiss to gauge his reaction had somehow turned into full on foreplay. She was feeling dizzy from lack of air and pure confusion, so she sat back and looked at him, drawing a few deep breaths. His face was unreadable beyond the immediate and intense look of lust in his eyes, and she briefly wondered where the hell they were going with this. Then he slipped a hand under her hoodie to cup a breast, and she leaned almost convulsively into his touch. She ground her hips down, searching for friction through her jeans, and gasped as he ran a firm finger over the fabric of her bra, tracing her nipple. Suddenly, the sound came again, louder this time, and they both froze, staring at one another. She scrambled off him and onto her feet just as he vanished.

“Loki!” she hissed, and fumbled for him, but he was gone. “Son of a bitch.” Panic mounting, she looked around her, hoping that the Gullviðr wasn’t home to any Darcyvores.

“Darcy?”

She snapped around to see a familiar shape approaching from the woods. “Dr. Banner!” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank god it’s you! And thank god you’re wearing pants.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend sirithfin has drawn the most amazing piece of fan art for this chapter, which you can find [here](http://yavannies.tumblr.com/post/77938175638/i-have-the-great-honour-to-present-this-amazing)!


	10. Yggdrasil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not an April Fools', it is an actual update. My apologies for taking so long with this. As always, I owe everything to my wonderful beta [DaemonMeg](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DaemonMeg/pseuds/DaemonMeg).
> 
> As of now (April 1st 2014), it's worth noting that this fic won't take into account the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

“Fancy seeing you here,” said Bruce.

“And speaking of fancy,” said Darcy, raising an eyebrow.

It was definitely preferable to no pants at all, but as far as trousers went, the ones Bruce Banner wore were among the stranger she’d seen. They were bright blue, calf-length and so tight that it would take Errol Flynn to pull them off. He wore a jacket type thing, too, of the sort that made the word _doublet_ pop up unbidden in the back of her mind.

“Don’t ask,” he said as Darcy tried her best not to laugh. He glanced at the ashes of the camp fire and at the sack of supplies. “Have you got anything to eat? I’m starving.”

“Yes!” said Darcy, thankful to have something to focus on while her mind raced. She started rooting through the bag for what was left after last night’s meal, and examined her situation. On the one hand, here was her ally and friend, and one of the very few people who Loki actually had a reason to fear. On the other hand, Loki was her key to reaching Jane. She was sure he was watching, and she needed to keep her options open. 

“Wow, you were well prepared,” said Dr. Banner as she set out bread, cheese, a skin of wine and what little remained of a strawberry tart. 

Darcy raised her chin as if it would keep the flush creeping up her neck from reaching her cheeks.  “Yeah, well. I’m a pretty resourceful girl.” Her eyes fell on the two cups that lay forgotten next to the cloak she’d slept on. As soon as Bruce had turned his attention to the food, she casually sat down on the cloak and began fumbling with one hand behind her to hide them. She felt a slight breeze, and suddenly she was grasping at nothing. _Thanks, Loki_.

Banner tore a chunk of bread out of a loaf, then paused thoughtfully. “Right, the last time I saw you, you were running some errand on behalf of Odin? What happened there?”

“I was still a prisoner, only I had a better view than you. I think he was trying to gain my trust,” she added pointedly. She hoped he was listening. “Long story short, Odin blamed Thor for bringing you to Asgard and then disappearing, so he banished and disinherited him in his absence.”

“That’s harsh.”

“He got it wrong, though,” said Darcy. “You know I said I was trying to find a way to get to Thor?”

“Yes?”

She chose her next words carefully.  “I made a…friend in Asgard. Someone who was close to Thor once. She told me that Thor and Jane are trapped on Jotunheim, and that his friends can help, but that they’re stuck in Vanaheim. You know, Sif and those other vikings. So that’s where I’m going now.”

Bruce chewed thoughtfully. “So,” he mumbled, sending a spray of crumbs flying. He coughed, then swallowed. “This friend. Is that how you managed to get out?” 

“No, that was all thanks to you, really. Your prison break provided a window of opportunity, Dr. Banner.” She felt the cool breeze and the scent of Loki. _What do you want now?_

“Please, just call me Bruce.”

“Sorry. Old college habits die hard.” Bruce gave a confused frown. “I went to Culver,” she explained. “I mean, you wouldn’t have known me. Different departments et cetera, but I knew who you were. Especially after…”

“I know,” he said. “Let’s not go there.”

“Where are you going?” asked Darcy. “What happened back in Asgard?”

Bruce wiped his mouth on his sleeve and shrugged. “It’s a bit of a blur. It always is. I’ve been out here for a few days, I suppose. Hiding from patrols, trying to find stuff to eat. Being invulnerable comes in pretty handy sometimes. No need to worry about poisoned plants…” He smiled wryly. “I know what set it off though. This guy came to see me, and he clearly knew what he was doing, because he managed to trigger me.”

The tugging breeze died down suddenly. Apparently, this was of interest to Loki. “Really? Who was it?”

“I don’t know. Some guy. Not very god-like if you ask me. He had a pretty awful-looking beard.”

That rang a bell with Darcy, and clearly with Loki as well, because after one last gust of cold air on her back, she couldn’t feel his presence anymore. 

“It’s like he knew exactly what he was doing,” Bruce went on, “and I could tell, so, you know, I try to keep myself calm and… Ah, let’s not talk about that. Vanaheim, yeah? Do you know the way, then?”

_Well, shit._ Darcy stood abruptly. “I’m sorry, I really need to pee.”

She left him in confused silence as she half-ran into the woods. As soon as she was confident she was out of earshot, she spoke up. “I know you’re here.”

“Come,” came Loki’s voice from the space to her right. An invisible hand grabbed hers, and gently pulled her along.

He led her down a slope where they were safely out of sight, then turned visible. Already, he was looking a lot healthier, she noticed, with a slight flush coloring his cheeks. He also looked livid. “Jarl,” he spat under his breath. “Only he would have an ugly enough beard to be memorable. That traitorous reprobate! I wonder how long he’s been plotting against me.”

Biting back a few choice words about pots and kettles, Darcy listened as Loki cursed away quietly. Strangely enough, he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get away from Bruce. Time for another gamble.

“We should get out of here,” she said. “If he sees you, he’s probably going to get, you know, _angry_.”

Loki shook his head. “No. I prefer to know where he is.”

Well, that was a relief. _Keep your enemies close_. She could almost feel his hands on her still, and the thought wasn’t at all unpleasant. 

“Besides,” said Loki, “ _it_ might come in useful.”

She knew there had been a reason he wasn't already miles away. There was a lot he wasn’t telling her, but for now, he was playing his game on the same board as she, and if that meant being able to bring Bruce along, she wasn’t about to complain.

“What do we do?” she asked. “I need to get back soon, or he'll start getting suspicious.”

“We are nearly at the branch. I'll lead the way there.”

“The branch?”

“Of Yggdrasil.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Darcy, remembering Thor talking about it. “I tried pronouncing that once.”

Loki raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Yggdrasil,” he repeated. “It's very straightforward. Call it the World Tree if you like. It's a fitting enough description. Our way to Vanaheim will be along its limbs.”

“I see. How do I explain that to Dr. Banner?”

“I'm sure you’ll think of something,” said Loki. “Simply follow me. I’ll stay close.”

“Are you going invisible on me again?”

“Not exactly,” said Loki and smiled. With a shimmer of magic, he sank to the ground, his shape shrinking rapidly, his arms turning into slender, fur covered legs, and his ears growing large and pointed. A second later, the transformation was complete, and Darcy could do little but gape at the silver fox at her feet. It had a fluffy tail, a soft-looking black belly and golden eyes that looked far too clever. She was sure pretty it was grinning at her.

“Right,” she said, holding her hands up. “That’s my quota of weird filled for this morning. Now if you wouldn’t mind, I need you to leave me alone for two minutes.”

The fox cocked its head, but didn't move.

“Can you even understand me?”

Loki changed back into himself. “Of course,” he said.

“Then shoo,” said Darcy, waving him off.

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because all this weirdness aside, I actually really do have to pee.”

 

* * *

 

Professor Adelsten’s summer house was located on the slopes overlooking a small lake near Leksand. Frozen and snow-covered, the land here was eerily silent. The cabins that were dotted here and there around the lake were dark and empty, not fitted with the comforts required to spend the winters here. While Adelsten went about getting a fire started in the old iron stove inside, Pepper took a moment to breathe the winter air and gather her thoughts. Clint was somewhere nearby, scouting the surrounding area, but in the dark of dusk he was as close to invisible as any man could be. Any man but Loki, perhaps. She shivered and frowned at the TD in her hands.

“JARVIS, do you think he might still be alive? Loki, I mean.” She didn’t need his opinion on Tony in _that_ matter.

“ _Is this a philosophical question, Miss Potts, or will you require an answer based on the balance of probabilities?_ ”

“Do you even do philosophical?”

“ _Mr. Stark has not fully developed that part of my AI yet, Miss Potts, but I can try._ ”

Pepper smiled. “That’s alright, JARVIS. I guess I just needed someone to talk to.”

“ _Always at your service, Miss Potts_.”

She was wavering between thinking she was going insane, and somehow understanding Tony’s love for his tech toys. At the sound of a door opening behind her, she turned around to see Adelsten waving at her.

“It’s starting to warm up now,” she called out.

“All right, thank you, professor.”

“I found a couple of jars of _sill_ and a few of potatoes from last summer as well, so dinner is taken care of.”

“Sounds lovely,” said Pepper. As soon as Adelsten had gone back inside, she whispered, “JARVIS, what’s _sill_?”

“ _Pickled herring, Miss Potts. You were served some at the Nobel dinner if I am not mistaken_.”

“That’s what I was afraid of. Find us some takeout. Now.”

 

* * *

 

They hadn’t meant to fall asleep after, but the warmth of the fire and the exhaustion had gotten the best of them. Now Jane was slowly becoming aware of his chest, rising and sinking evenly under her cheek, of his heartbeat, strong and regular, of his smell... Not the most pleasant, she had to admit. It was man sweat mingled with sex and general grubbiness, and she wrinkled her nose, then sighed wearily as she realized they weren't out of the woods yet. Metaphorically or literally.

“Wake up,” she said to Thor, prodding him in the side.

He grunted and turned on his side, so Jane sat up and stirred the smoldering ashes of their fire, and fed it with twigs until it was blazing again, then took out the TD15. She had already tried everything she could think of where button-punching was concerned. It was time to look inside, but she had left all her tools in the lab in Angerboda's keep. She still had her dagger, though, and now she fished it out and used its point as a makeshift screwdriver. A few minutes later, she was able to carefully pry it open. What she saw made her swear loudly.

“What?” grumbled Thor, then sat up abruptly, looking around him dazedly. “How long was I asleep for?”

“Someone’s tampered with it!” She held the opened TD out to Thor.

He looked at it for several long seconds. “It’s in two parts.”

Jane took a deep breath. “Yes. Yes it is. But look!” She pried out the loose wire to show him. “I _knew_ there was a reason why the lab wasn’t guarded. Angerboda never trusted me, not even for a second. She knew I’d come back for it, and she must have had Vakti make sure I wouldn’t be able to use it.”

“Can you not mend it?”

“Not unless you have a portable welding kit lying around somewhere.”

She carefully examined the rest of the connections. The coordinations adjustor was completely inoperable, and the only thing that seemed had been left untouched was the beacon. The outer switch had been smashed during their escape, but using the point of the knife, she was able to nudge it into place. With a bleep and a whirr, the transmitter spun into motion. Thor made a happy noise, but went quiet again when she shot him a glance.

“This is grasping at straws,” she said. “The only chance we have now is if someone who knows what they’re doing has the TD17, and happen to turn on the roaming function.”

The distant sound of wolves howling made them both snap around and stare at the entrance to the cave, then back at each other. Thor scrambled up and pulled his shirt on, then got his oversized Jotun dagger out and stole forward slowly to peer out into the dawn.

“The wolves have our scent,” he said. “How likely is it that someone will open a portal within the next few minutes?”

“I can smell your soot, ashflake!” Angerboda’s voice pierced the cold air like an icy spear.

Jane winced. “How _likely?_ Do you want me to start running some calculations?”

Thor rolled his shoulders and flexed his neck, then gripped the dagger firmly with both hands. “Whatever gets us out of here, Jane. I can only hold them off for so long.”

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

Darcy scanned the woods ahead, and sure enough, there was a glimpse of the silver fox. Far away, but visible if you knew what you were looking for. “Yep,” she said.

“Yggdrasil,” mused Bruce. “You know, I always assumed that was some sort of analogy.”

“This might come as something of a surprise, but while you and Stark were cooped up in the lab last summer, Jane and I were doing _actual_ field research.”

“Field research? Involving Yggdrasil?”

“I suppose you could say that Thor was partly our field.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

Darcy frowned, then realized what that had sounded like. “No. Not like that. Not at _all_ like that.”

“Hey, I don’t judge. You can’t deny he’s handsome, even for a god.”

They walked on in awkward silence. For the past hour, Loki had led them up a gentle but steady slope, and Darcy was starting to feel it in her calves. Up ahead, they were approaching a narrow pass, running a sharp rift down the hillside, and she saw a white-tipped tail disappear inside.

“Not long now,” she said, and somehow knew she had the truth of it.

The passage cut straight into the hillside, the pathway winding this way and that, and soon, it began going steadily downward. Above them, vines of lush ivy bound a dense ceiling, and from somewhere, the sound of dripping water could be heard. Finally, they rounded a corner and glimpsed sunlight through a curtain of leaves ahead, and as they pushed through it, Darcy couldn't help but gasp.

“Holy shit,” said Bruce.

“Pretty much,” said Darcy breathlessly.

They were looking down into a vast, crater-like hollow, and at heart of it was an immense tree in full bloom. Peering down, she couldn’t make out the bottom of the pit. Instead, it seemed like the tree was suspended in thin air, its roots curling out of view far below. It was difficult to tell just how big it was, but Darcy thought she could glimpse pathways carved into the trunk and along the limbs. Some way away to their left, one of the branches stretched far enough to touch the side of the crater where their trail ran, and she guessed that's where they were headed. Still, it couldn’t hurt to be sure. 

“Before we go climbing that, I’m just going to…” she waved vaguely towards the ferns and bushes lining the path, “you know, lady business.”

Bruce blanched. “Oh. Right. I’ll, uuh… I’ll go ahead and take care of some…things of my own.”

He hurried along down the path, and Darcy fought her way through the undergrowth until she was out of sight, then hunched down. Moments later, the fox came scurrying, sank down on its hind legs and scratched itself behind an ear.

“Got fleas?” Darcy said and grinned.

The fox managed to look unimpressed before turning into Loki. He, too, was crouching down, his face awfully close to hers. 

“What is it?” he asked.

“Which way am I supposed to go once we’re out on Ygg… You know? There’s not a whole lot of places where you can hide.”

“Simple enough. When faced with a choice of up or down, always take the lower route. If at a crossing, always take the left-hand path. I will take care of the rest.”

“Okay. Down and left. Got it.”

“Darcy?” Loki caught her eyes with his, and she realized she had been avoiding looking straight at him. It seemed like a bad idea to get trapped in that dark stare, but here she was after all.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” he said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her cheek before disappearing again.

 

* * *

 

It was still dark when Clint shook Pepper awake.

“The professor says it’s time,” he said. He looked ridiculously alert.

“Did you get any sleep, Barton?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t need much. I heard a chopper about an hour ago, so I’ve been making sure we’re alone out here.”

“And are we?”

He scratched at his chin and grimaced. “To be honest, Potts, I’m not sure. The sooner we get this portal business over with, the better.”

Adelsten was waiting outside. It was a moonless night, but the snow reflected the Milky Way, the broad band of stars above them shining so brightly that they cast shadows on the ground as they made their way down to the lake.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” asked Pepper, looking warily across the frozen water.

“It’s been a cold winter so far, and the ice set several weeks back. It’s perfectly safe.”

Adelsten walked confidently out onto the ice and beckoned to her and Clint to follow, but Pepper wanted more than just her word. “JARVIS?”

“ _Ice thickness is approximately seven inches at the weakest point, Miss Potts. The lake will support vehicles weighing up to four tons_.”

“Thanks,” said Pepper and stepped gingerly onto the frozen surface. It felt solid enough 

A way out onto the lake, Adelsten stopped and began drawing a large circle in the snow.

“Don’t go outside the circle before the ritual is over,” she said, dragging her foot along behind her.

Clint stepped swiftly aside. “You’re on your own then,” he said. “I’m not leaving myself trapped in there.”

“Good,” said Adelsten drily. “Your negative energy would do nothing to help us. Just keep away.”

“Can’t I just try to flip the switch?” said Pepper. She had the TD ready in her hands.

“This time, we do it my way.” Adelsten closed the circle, then dug a jar out from a pocket, frowned at the label, then unscrewed the lid and began sprinkling the contents around the circle. “Catnip,” she said. “The basic herb for any successful ritual. Sage, to cleanse us of impurities and pave his way…”

“ _His?_ ” snapped Pepper. “You’re not talking about Loki, are you?”

Adelsten ignored her. “Winter savory, and he will grant us protection…”

“Pepper!” shouted Clint, and she spun around.

She was met by a sudden, blinding light. Flinging her hand up to shade her eyes, she tried to make out what was happening on the shore. “JARVIS, what’s going on?”

“ _It would appear S.H.I.E.L.D is aware of our current location, Miss Potts_.”

“Potts! Drop the transporter device!” It was Agent Hill, and by the looks of it she had a whole team at her disposal.

“Stay out of this, Hill!” shouted Pepper back. She was vaguely aware of Clint sprinting towards the shore to her right and of Adelsten chanting away in Swedish.

“Johnson, Martinez, Burke, after Barton!” barked Hill, then turned her attention to Pepper again. “You’re out of line, officer! Drop the device and make that woman stop whatever she’s doing. I will not allow you to jeopardize the safety of civilians in a bid to get Tony back.”

There were muffled sounds of struggle from the birches along the shore, and moments later, an arrow came whistling out of the reeds, hitting an officer in the arm. Two more agents sprinted off towards the woods, firing as they went.

“I mean it, Potts!” said Agent Hill, hauling her own gun out and aiming it straight at her.

“JARVIS, it’s time.”

“ _I thought you would never ask, Miss Potts_. _Four seconds and counting_.”

Adelsten’s chanting was reaching some sort of peak, and the circle in the snow was now glowing faintly green. Pepper flung the TD down on the snow and held up her hands.

“ _Three_.”

“Good call, Potts,” said Hill, then turned to one of her officers. “Tranq that woman!”

“ _Two_.”

A tranquilizer dart soared past Pepper, and Adelsten dropped to the ground; the strange fluorescent light died down immediately. Pepper stood straight and braced herself.

“ _One_.”

The Mark 4 came hurtling at her, one part after another enveloping her limbs. The impact of the helmet made her bite her tongue, and she tasted blood. How did Tony ever get used to this? She opened her eyes. Through the heads-up display she could suddenly see everything much more clearly. Of course, night vision was standard. She just hadn't tried the suit on during the dark hours before. Hill was sprinting towards her, so she snatched up the TD again. Tranquilizers were bouncing off the armor like hailstones, but it was little more than a light pattering against the surface of the suit. 

“Stay away from me!” she said, holding up a hand, ready to blow Maria back to Adelsten’s house if she had to.

“God damn it, Potts!” Hill slid to a halt a few yards away. “You do not have clearance to wear that. Is that even an authorized suit?”

“How did you find us? Was it Selvig?”

“His nerves may be frazzled, but at least he still knows right from wrong!”

There came a sharp cry from the shore, and it sounded an awful lot like Barton to Pepper. Quickly, she opened the side-pocket of the suit and stuffed the TD down, shrugged apologetically at Agent Hill, then pushed off from the ground. _Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit_. She had no time to get her bearings and she was wobbling at high speed from the get-go. Before she even had the time to react, she had slammed into one of the birches along the shoreline. With a spray of splinters and a groan, the top half of the tree folded over with a violent crash. Clinging to the broken tree trunk, she scanned the ground. She could see Clint, struggling through the snow away to the left of her. He was followed by three agents, and they were gaining on him. 

Pepper took a deep breath. “All right, Virginia. You can do this.”

She carefully lowered herself down, and with jerky, uneven motions she was able to land in front of Clint without further mishaps. If he was impressed, he didn’t exactly go out of his way to show it. For a few seconds, they stared at one another.

“Stark…?” Clint said finally, limping slowly forwards, clutching at his leg.

“Not yet,” said Pepper, letting the visor slide open. “Come on, soldier. Find something to hold on to, we’re getting out of here.” She held out an arm.

Clint stepped closer and awkwardly grabbed her shoulder.

“That’s not going to cut it,” she said and shoved him firmly against the suit.

“I’m really close to your…” he said, looking down at her chest. He fumbled for something to hold on to, found her hip, then quickly settled for the waist.

“What is this, Barton? High school? Besides, there’s a quarter of an inch of titanium in the way.”

“But you’re an offic-aargh!”

She did her very best to fly in a somewhat straight line, but she was fairly certain she could hear Barton whimpering as they shot through the air across the lake. It only took them a few seconds to reach the other side, but it was apparently more than enough for Clint, who disentangled himself at the earliest opportunity, then slumped to the ground. Ignoring him for the moment, Pepper took the TD out and turned it on. The storage pouch folded into the thigh armor again with a soft hiss.

“Hey, yours has pockets,” remarked Clint.

“Of course it does,” said Pepper. “Tony’s smart, but he’s not exactly practical. Wish me luck, Barton. Here goes nothing.”

She flipped the switch.

 

* * *

 

Angerboda had brought an army. They advanced slowly, keeping close to the tree line at first, but when they saw that Thor wasn’t moving from his spot at the entrance to the cave, they crept forward. When the first couple of Jotuns attacked, Jane found herself unable to keep her focus on the TD. Without Mjölnir, Thor was still certainly a force to be reckoned with, and the narrow opening provided a good chokepoint, but these enemies were twice his size, and she flinched with every swing of his sword. He glanced back at her.

“Jane! The fire!”

She snapped around to stare at the blaze for a few seconds, then realized what he meant. Grabbing two half-burnt sticks, she sprinted to his side and hurled the flaming brands at the attackers. The frost giants leapt aside, but one of them was graced by a stick, and he fell to the ground, wailing and rolling around in the snow. 

“Again!” shouted Thor.

Jane brought another round of sticks, waving them at the gathering Jotuns in what she hoped was a menacing way. Reluctantly, a few began stepping closer, and when she threw a stick in their direction, they jumped back. However, they drew steadily nearer each time.

“This is only going to work for so long,” she muttered to Thor.

The frost giant problem aside, Jane could see Angerboda, stalking amongst the trees. 

“What will you do when you run out of twigs, blood worm?” she called out, and Jane could practically hear the smirk.

“At least she’s the gloating type,” said Jane.

“Indeed,” said Thor. “In my experience, they seldom win.” In spite of everything, they exchanged a quick smile.

At a command from Angerboda, a number of Jotuns attacked at once, and it took all of Thor’s might and as many sticks as Jane could hurl to keep them at bay. By the time they were done, Jane’s legs were shaking, Thor was sweating rivers, and the corpses of ten frost giants lay dead at their feet; yet there were still ten times as many left, awaiting the command of their queen.

“If she has them all come at us at once, we’re so screwed,” said Jane quietly. She dug deep into her pocket and fished out the last vial of H2S and clutched it with determination. “At least we’ll go out with a bang.”

“Jane?”

“Yes?”

“Marry me.”

Before she could reply, a happy bleep came from the back of the cave, and they both turned around. There it was; a warm, familiar glow that made Jane’s heart soar. It was slowly expanding, growing, filling the space inside. She grabbed Thor’s arm and tugged him along, rushing towards the TD.

“Someone’s answering our call,” she said.

The portal was almost fully formed, and not a minute too soon. They could hear Angerboda shouting furious commands and the scramble of the Jotun outside. With a distinct pop, the dimension ripped, and a rift opened. Jane briefly reflected on the fact that what she could glimpse through the portal looked more or less like the Ironwood as well, but there was no time to hesitate.

“Come on!” she said, and they stepped through.

Nobel Prizes and advances in the field aside, Jane had never actually _used_ a TD before. In fact, no one had. They’d experimented with rocks, coins, and plants, and Darcy had sent Thor’s Crocs to some unknown dimension after declaring that wearing them was an actual crime. The plants had survived, so at least there was that. Well, there had to be a first time for everything. It wasn’t at all like traveling via the Bifrost. It was neither dark nor light. Neither hot nor cold. She was still breathing, and that indicated that there was air here. She could feel it pouring in and out of her lungs like some sort of liquid, could feel it seeping into her bloodstream.

“Jane…” Thor’s voice came drifting towards her. She could almost feel the sound waves as they rippled past.

“Mm?”

He looked at her and blinked slowly. Jane felt like she was swimming in syrup. Even her thoughts were sluggish. It struck her that there was another part of her observing all of this. Was this the separation of mind and matter? Or was it mind, matter and magic? This notion filled her with an intense need to theorize. Where was her note book?

“Jane… I’m going to be sick.”

With another pop, they tumbled out of the rift, landing heavily on cold, hard ice.

“Dr. Foster!”

Jane blinked and felt icy cold air rushing into her lungs at an alarming speed. She snapped her head back and saw the upside-down face of Pepper Potts. “It worked!” she said, grinning. She felt like crying.

“Are you alone?” said Pepper. She had the TD17 in her hands.

Somewhere nearby, Jane could hear Thor heaving noisily. She sat up only to be half blinded by the bright, warm glow of a TD, and realized that the rift was still open. “Shut it off,” she said.

“What?”

“The TD! Shut it off, we’ve got frost giants on our heels!”

Pepper fumbled with the device, and Jane briefly registered that she was wearing a suit like Tony’s, only green. The portal shrunk, and with a final wink of orange closed completely. A few yards away she could see Clint Barton helping Thor to his feet. With a sigh, she sank back down and gazed up at the starry sky.

“Oh thank god,” she murmured. “Hello Cassiopeia. Hi Andromeda. It’s good to see you again.”

 

* * *

 

Yggdrasil was a wondrous and somewhat frightening thing. Its branches were broad enough for Darcy and Bruce to walk comfortably along side by side with plenty of space to spare, but that didn’t help the fact that there were no railings, and that the fall may or may not be an eternal one. Also, there was the swaying. It was barely noticeable but ever-present, and the slow, rocking motion made Darcy feel slightly sick. It wasn’t until they reached the trunk and began their descent that she could relax somewhat.

Pathways had been carved into the tree itself, and the steps were well-worn by what she could only assume was millennia of Aesir traveling from world to world. Loki was working his magic, and even though Darcy couldn’t see him, there were other ways of telling. As they walked, the trail changed. It was a subtle thing, almost the same as the way a rainbow seemed to shift when you moved towards it. The alterations seemed to happen when Darcy’s gaze drifted, but after a while there was no denying that what lay ahead looked different now than it had done when they began walking.

“Is it just me, or does the path keep changing?” asked Bruce.

“It’s not just you. But Valdís said it was to be expected. Just keep to the left and go down, that’s what she said.” Darcy hoped she sounded confident enough. It was a strange thing, lying to your friend to protect a common enemy.

“Well, your friend’s been right so far.”

Time passed at an undeterminable pace. It might have been one hour, it might have been ten, but when their trail veered off from the trunk to follow a root, they knew they were at least making progress. They had long ago left the crater behind, and the base of the trunk and the roots seemed to be floating in an indistinct, golden space, as if the tree itself emitted a certain glow. Outside of that light, there seemed to be a pressing darkness, but Darcy preferred not to look at it, instead bending her gaze down at the smooth, worn wood and concentrating on taking one step after another. 

Down and down they went. Three times the root split into two, and each time they followed the left path, until finally, they had reached the end of it. Whether or not this was the entrance to Vanaheim, Darcy couldn’t tell, but it was certainly one hell of an entrance. She looked at the immense gates ahead of them. Bound by magic, no doubt, and looking extremely impenetrable. They walked up to them, gave them a healthy push and a good pounding. Unsurprisingly, the gates remained closed.

“Soo…” said Darcy slowly, in reality as much to Loki as to Bruce.

“Yeah,” said Bruce. “Did your friend mention a way past this?”

Darcy shook her head. “Sorry.”

“Maybe there is something…” said Bruce, running his fingers along the gates, tracing the patterns. “Some latch, perhaps.”

As Bruce busied himself with his probing, Darcy surreptitiously edged backwards until she was some way away, then cleared her throat carefully.

“Very good,” came Loki’s quiet voice from behind her. “And just where I needed him. I did suspect I’d find the way still barred. These gates are bound by spells older than I am. With magic like that, you sometimes need a little push. Do you trust me?” She felt him put his hands on her shoulders.

It was one thing to step around the truth and another to tell a downright lie. “What do you think?” she muttered.

Loki laughed, somewhat sadly. “Of course you don’t. You’re not as simple as most mortals.”

“I think you’re just wrong about most mortals.”

He was quiet for a while, then asked again, “Do you trust me, Darcy?”

“I’ll try.”

“Then play along.”

She felt him wrap one arm around her, firmly but not with any real force, then shivered as his magic sent sparkles over her skin. Suddenly, she could see his arms, and she wrenched her neck back to look at his face. He nodded reassuringly at her, then over her shoulder, urging her to look ahead. Darcy turned back and nearly bit her tongue. She could see herself, held by Loki, mere yards away from Bruce, who was still wrapped up in investigating the gates. Was Loki actually insane? Where was he going with this?

“Midgardian freak,” said Loki, and his voice came from his shade rather than from behind Darcy. 

Bruce snapped around, then stumbled backwards. “No…” he said.

“Why yes,” said Loki and grinned. 

Darcy went cold as she realized that the Loki in front of them was holding a dagger against her throat, but when she glanced down, careful not to bend her neck, she could see that his real hand was empty, and merely resting against her collarbone. However, she did as she was bid, and whimpered and tried to look scared. It was mind-boggling to see her actions mirrored by her copy.

“Has it been you, causing us trouble all along…?” said Bruce, bunching up his fists. “You let her go, Loki. You let her go now, because I’m starting to feel angry, and we both know how well you like it when I’m angry.”

Loki backed away, and Darcy stumbled along with him. Their shades did the same, only they were headed for the gates. 

When Loki next spoke, it was for Darcy’s ears only. “Oh, but I will. Because this time it’ll all go according to plan.”

 


	11. The Bridge

Natasha had done many things in her relatively long life as a spy and assassin. Until this morning, riding at the head of an army had not been one of them. As one used to being able to quickly slip in and out of houses and countries (not to mention sight) alike with ease, she’d be lying if she said she was comfortable. Still, there was no denying that it gave a certain sense of power. If she had been one to ever indulge, she might have allowed herself to feel excited, but she knew from experience that indulgence was the bane of vigilance. Stark had no such qualms; he was looking the happiest he had done in days, sitting up straight for once, and she had barely even heard him complain about his saddle sores. Sif and the Warriors Three were less flustered, alert but calm where they rode, spearheading the vanguard.

“Are wars between the Realms common?” Natasha asked.

“Conflicts and skirmishes are,” said Sif. “Full-scale war less so. Let us hope it does not come to that. I will not lie, Natasha. I cherish the heat of battle, and it’s been more than a year since my blood last sang in tune with my sword, yet today, I hope for a peaceful resolution and that we will not find the gates to Asgard shut.”

They had been clear of the forest for a couple of days, and the rolling hills had given way to rugged highlands. Ahead of them, a wide pass in the mountain range awaited, its sides guarded by some man-made structure that seemed to have once spanned the space between the cliffs. It was long-withered by the looks of it, and only two vast half-crumbled pillars and the hints of an archway remained.

“I’m guessing that’s _not_ the gate,” said Natasha.

“No,” said Sif. “Come, let us scout. Hogun! You have command.”

She put her heels to her horse and took off in a cloud of dust. Natasha swore under her breath, and nudged her own steed with her boots. Sif had a head start and was undoubtedly the better rider, but Natasha was much lighter, and gaining steadily. As she drew up alongside Sif, they glanced at one another and smiled, and suddenly, the race was on. The wind was rushing around Natasha’s head, whistling in her ears and sending her hair streaming, and when Sif let out a bubbling laughter, she had the strangest urge to join her. Something swelled inside her chest, and somehow, she couldn’t help her smile widening into a grin as she leaned over the neck of her mare, urging her to go faster. In the end it was a tie, and as they reined in their horses near the top of the hill, Sif’s eyes were shining.

“By the Bifrost, you could make a fine Valkyrie,” she said, chest heaving. “Would that you had been born Aesir.”

They dismounted and walked the rest of the way, crouching low as they reached the crest. Peering over the edge and into the valley below, Natasha scanned the surroundings. She paused for a second on a huge bridge-like thing, and the gigantic gates at its far end, found it unguarded and moved on. In the distance, she could see a dark line on the horizon, hinting at a forest, and the vague outline of a city. Closer by, the land was open, all rolling fields and a few farmsteads. A main road leading from the pass and several smaller ones cut through the landscape, but there was no one moving nearby; no signs of either beast or man that she could see. Squinting, she looked towards the city again. Her eyes were good, but she couldn’t help but wish Barton was here.

“I take it that’s Vanirborg,” she said.

“Indeed,” said Sif and rose. “And not a single Vanir here to greet us. They knew we were coming and have fled into the city.”

“We’re not their enemies,” said Natasha. “We have Hogun with us.”

“Hogun may be the protector of this realm, but Vanirborg is ruled by a council. Clearly, they have decided to stay true to Odin. It matters not. Let them hide behind their walls. We have no quarrel with them.”

“And that’s the root?” Natasha pointed towards the massive, twisted bridge.

“Yes. It appears the gates are left unguarded,” said Sif grimly.

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

“The gates are either open, guarded or shut. When the gates are shut from Asgard, they are near impossible to open by force.”

“Near impossible?”

“Even Thor wielding Mjölnir could not do it easily. This will take more than one battering ram. I had better tell Volstagg to start cutting down–“

Sif was interrupted by an immense crash, and Natasha flung herself towards her, pulling her down on the ground. Looking down into the valley, she could hardly believe her eyes. Beside her, Sif made a strangled noise.

“Jormungand’s jaws, what _is_ that?”

Natasha smiled. “That’s the Hulk. I’m sure Thor has told you all about him.”

The green monster was turning this way and that as if he’d lost something, then let out a disappointed roar, picked up the remnants of one of the massive doors and smashed it violently to the ground, reducing it to splinters.

“I have heard the tales,” said Sif. “I thought them much exaggerated. I owe Thor an apology, it would seem. Look! He comes this way.”

Natasha turned on her heel and starting running towards the horses, Sif following close on her heels. “We need to clear a path,” she said over her shoulder as she swung into the saddle, and Sif nodded.

They thundered down the hill, and as soon as they were in hearing range of the vanguard, Sif started bellowing orders in a commanding voice, sending Fandral and Volstagg to the flanks to move the troops. Natasha, meanwhile, headed straight for Tony.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Time for you to shine, buddy. The big guy is here and I’m counting on you to calm his nerves.”

Tony’s eyes went wide. “The big guy? The _big_ guy? The big, big guy?”

“Yes,” she said, then turned around just as the Hulk bounded through the mountain pass. “The big guy. I suggest you take him somewhere more private to talk things through.”

With a wide grin, Tony slid off his horse, flicked his wrists and took off. Sif returned just in time to see him land at a safe distance, waving his arms about to grab the attention of the green monster.

“Can he stop him?” she asked. “Thor always claimed he was practically invincible.”

“Everyone has a weakness,” said Natasha. “Luckily for us, I brought his along.”

 

* * *

 

Jane’s eyes were heavy with sleep, and being fresh out of the primitive (but at least lukewarm) shower and wrapped in Thor’s arms, it was all she could do not to drift off. They were gathered around the table in the kitchen of Professor Adelsten’s house, and Thor was filling Pepper and Clint Barton in on the details of the days they’d spent on Jotunheim. The elderly academic was out cold from tranquilizer darts, and according to Agent Hill it would be a good while before she woke. Barton was examining one of his arrows, running his fingers along the shaft and inspecting the fletchings. Ever since Thor first mentioned Loki’s name, he’d been fiddling with his various weapons. Pepper was listening attentively, but Jane could see she was struggling to keep her composure. She was no doubt happy that she and Thor were safely back, but it wasn’t them she’d been hoping to see tumbling out of that portal.

“So the other transporter is still in the hands of this…ice witch?” asked Clint after Thor had finished his somewhat grandiose retelling of their escape from Angerboda. “That seems like the sort of situation you should have avoided.”

“It’s not as easy as all that,” said Jane, and sat up a little straighter. She turned the TD17 over in her hands. “These were prototypes; they weren’t designed for one-way trips, not to mention escapes from alien worlds.”

“We need to get it back though. Can we do that?”

“It would be unwise to attempt an attack on Jotunheim,” said Thor. “There are too many questions that still need answering. It’s greatly troubling that the Bifrost remains closed. I cannot believe that my father willingly keeps me from Asgard, and I fear that at least some of this is Loki’s doing.”

Barton shifted in his seat, and Pepper laid a hand on his arm. Then the front door opened and Maria Hill stepped inside, bringing with her a gust of cold air.

“The area’s clear,” she said, then glanced at Pepper. “I’ve spoken to Director Fury. There’s still no sign of other…activities.”

Pepper nodded. “Thank you, Hill.”

Agent Hill turned to Jane. “Dr. Foster, I need you to hand me that device. For safekeeping.”

Jane clutched the TD17 closer. “No,” she said. “It’s bad enough that 16 is with S.H.I.E.L.D. I hope you’ve told them to keep it turned off at all times?”

“Dr. Foster…"

“She said no,” said Thor, moving his arm to cradle her protectively. For once, Jane didn’t mind at all. 

Agent Hill looked at Barton who simply shrugged. “Well,” she said. “This is very irregular.”

“Everything about this is irregular,” said Pepper, her voice breaking a little. “I will… I…” She rose abruptly and stalked away towards the adjoining bed chamber, closing the door behind her.

An awkward silence descended over the kitchen. Jane and Barton both rose, then looked at each other.

“I’ll go,” said Clint, and something in his voice made Jane wonder if he and Pepper had formed some connection in the past week. She nodded and sank down on the kitchen sofa again.

“There are few places worse than Jotunheim,” said Thor to no one in particular after a few moments. “If we made it out alive, chances are good for Banner, Stark and Lady Romanov. Still, it does little to lessen my frustration. They are fast friends of mine. If Loki has done them harm, he will long regret it.”

“I should think he’ll long regret simply turning up alive,” said Jane. “But speaking of friends…” She grabbed Barton’s phone for probably the tenth time since they tumbled through the portal and hit redial on Darcy’s number. The result was the same as ever. “Still no answer,” she said to Thor. Chewing her nail absentmindedly, she barely registered Thor gently pushing her hand away. It was very unlike Darcy to not have her phone charged and ready, especially with what had been going on.

“Who are you trying to call?” asked Agent Hill.

“Darcy, my intern. Well, my employee. My _friend_.”

Hill seemed to hesitate. “Did Potts not tell you…?”

Jane suddenly went cold, and behind her, she felt Thor moving uneasily. “Tell me what?”

“Darcy Lewis is missing along with Banner, Stark and Agent Romanov. I assumed you knew.”

“No,” said Jane, then swallowed hard. “No, I didn’t know that.”

 

* * *

 

The Hulk was long gone, it seemed, and had left what Darcy assumed was Sif’s army in disarray but largely unharmed. Looking down at the mass of men and horses, she uttered a single four letter word. She couldn’t even begin to guess how big the army was; it was like something out of Lord of the Rings. Loki gave a soft laugh, and when she turned to him, he had transformed into Valdís. Rather than the flowing Asgardian dress he had worn when posing as her handmaid, he now sported practical-looking leather armor, his hair swept back into a strict ponytail. 

“It’s only a temporary disguise,” he said by way of explanation. “I want to treat with Sif, and while there is a fair chance she’ll make good on some previous promises, I would at least like to make it there in one piece.”

As they made their way down the slope, a single rider broke free from the rest of the group, and as she approached, Darcy’s heart leapt - it was Natasha Romanov. Unable to stop herself, even at the sharp warning from Loki, she began running towards her. Her mind raced ahead of her feet. Was Jane here, too? And Thor? Were they, in fact, looking for _her_? 

“Darcy Lewis?” said Natasha while swinging gracefully out of the saddle.

“Yes!” said Darcy, and resisted the overwhelming urge to run straight into her arms and hug her.

“You came with Banner,” she said, and it wasn’t a question. She looked over Darcy’s shoulder. “And who is this?”

“A friend from Asgard,” said Loki, coming up to them. “I must speak with Lady Sif.”

Natasha’s eyes met hers briefly, and Darcy had no doubt that the agent now knew that this was no friend of theirs. Darcy, however, gave the slightest of nods. For a tense few moments she felt the stares of both Loki and Natasha before the latter waved them along. 

“Are Jane and Thor here?” asked Darcy, half running to keep up with Natasha.

“No,” she replied.

Her heart sank. “Oh. I was hoping… Hang on, what are _you_ doing here? What happened at the party? Bruce kind of choked me half to death, and he can’t remember anything. Where did he go anyway?”

“He had to let off some steam. Stark’s helping him with that, and unless they manage to get themselves distracted by science, they’ll be back soon enough.”

“Stark? _Tony_ Stark?”

“The man, the myth, the megalomaniac.”

Darcy glanced at Loki who was looking more uneasy by the minute. She grinned at him, serving only to further sour his already lemon-like expression. _Iron Man_. It wasn’t exactly who she’d hoped for, but the protection of half of the Avengers wasn’t bad. Things were finally looking up for Darcy Lewis.

Sif met them with polite greetings and a slight frown at Loki. There was no mistaking that she was the one in charge. After a quick word from Natasha she began barking orders, and it was only matter of minutes before a number of tents had been raised. Darcy watched as Thor’s friend led Valdís-Loki into one of them before being ushered into another one by Natasha. A lean warrior brought food and drink, and while Darcy grabbed half a chicken, Natasha watched her intently.

“It’s Loki,” said Darcy, her mouth full of food. “That woman who wanted to see Sif. Crazy, I know, but it is. You might want to tell her.”

If Natasha was in any way surprised at this news, she didn’t show it. Instead, she sat down cross-legged opposite Darcy, picked an apple from the tray and bit into it. “Sif can take care of herself. Now tell me from the start.”

 

* * *

Sif drew the tent flap shut and turned to the young woman. “Who are you, and what do you want?” she asked.

The girl dragged her fingers leisurely along the back wall of the tent. “For the past year, the Odin you have seen on the throne has not been who you think he is,” she said. 

The woman did not as much as look at her when she spoke, and Sif felt the hairs at her neck prickle uncomfortably. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“The Allfather has not been quite…himself. Surely you must have noticed the change.”

“I have. For the past fortnight, he has failed to answer our calls, and the Bifrost is kept closed.”

An annoyed look flashed across the woman’s face. “Yes, but _before_ that. The nine realms have thrived, would you not say?”

“Who are you?” asked Sif again, one hand on the hilt of her dagger.

“You know me,” said the young woman with a lopsided smile. 

The girl looked somehow familiar. There was something in the way she carried herself. She was dressed as a ranger, yet she moved with grace that suggested a life in the palace. Sif narrowed her eyes. “I do. But I do not know your name.”

“Will you promise not to do anything rash if I tell you? I am, as you can see, unarmed.” She held her arms out.

Reluctantly, Sif let her hand drop and nodded once. The woman waved her hand, and the air suddenly shimmered with magic. A second later, Sif was lunging at _him_ , dagger first, but instead of sinking the blade into his chest she tumbled into the canvas wall, ripping open a long slash. With a curse, she got to her feet and spun around.

“For shame, Sif,” said Loki, unsurprisingly now brandishing his own daggers. “I’m here to treat, and you did promise not to be rash.”

She quickly fished a second blade from the shaft of her boot and crouched low. “I made another promise to you, traitor. I intend to keep that one first.”

She came at him again, and this time he stayed solid, but he blocked, kicked and danced away. “I didn’t betray my brother,” he said. “I gave him exactly what he wanted. A life on Midgard with that woman, without the weight of the throne on his shoulders.”

A number of things clicked in Sif’s mind. “Usurper,” she spat, and attacked again. This time, he fell for a feint, and one of her daggers graced his thigh before he managed to get away.

“I don’t deny it,” he said, pressing one hand against his leg, “but hear me out. I know where he is.”

She lowered her guard just a fraction. “Where?”

“Jotunheim. And no, it wasn’t me. Not that part, at least.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“You don’t, you never have, and you shouldn’t, but consider this, Sif. Odin has returned to the throne. I woke him myself, and you will soon find that I’m telling the truth. He holds Mjölnir and commands the Bifrost again. What do you think is keeping _him_ from rescuing Thor?”

For a brief moment she hesitated. “You,” she said then. “It’s always you, Loki.”

“You know, I’m beginning to see why Thor is spending so much time on Earth. Mortals simply don’t have the time to hold a grudge like the Aesir.”

She raised her daggers again.

“Sif?” came a familiar voice from outside the tent.

“That would be your cousin Saga,” said Loki. “I expect she has some interesting tidings. Go on, greet her. I’m not in _that_ much of a hurry.”

 

* * *

Natasha watched as Darcy sipped at her wine while pulling blades of grass from around her feet. Behind that casual carelessness, Natasha could see newfound cynicism, suspicion, and a weariness that the younger woman hadn’t quite allowed herself to feel yet. She liked what she saw. This girl was smart, and probably smart enough to hide just _how_ smart, most of the time. There were some things she wasn’t telling her, but she felt reasonably certain that she hadn’t become Loki’s puppet. Was she simply resilient, or did Loki have other plans for her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of shouting and running outside, and Darcy snapped her head up to look at her.

“What’s going on?”

“Maybe Banner and Stark,” said Natasha, getting to her feet. “Or maybe Sif didn’t take too kindly to Loki rising from the dead. Come on, let’s go see.”

Bruce and Tony were indeed back, but for once, they weren’t the cause of alarm. Above them, clouds were amassing despite the skies being perfectly clear not half an hour earlier. Underneath those clouds, men and women were scrambling to get away, leaving a wide space on the field.

“Incoming Bifrost!” yelled Darcy, and moments later a pillar of light hit the ground, filling the air with smoke and the smell of seared grass. Natasha had seen the Rainbow Bridge before, but she didn’t recognize the man in front of them. Judging by his armor, he was Asgardian.

“I know that guy,” said Darcy excitedly. “He was in the council I told you about. Heimdall’s grandson!”

Sif came shouldering her way through the crowd, followed by the female version of Loki and someone who looked enough like her to be her sister. “Sigmund!” said Sif. “What news from Asgard? Did Odin - the _real_ Odin - send you?”

“He did,” said Sigmund, and licked his lips. “With a message.” Natasha frowned. She could already tell that this was going to be bad.

“Well?” said Sif.

“We are not welcome back.”

“Who?”

“None of us,” said Sigmund. “Jarl has turned his cloak, and sits by Odin’s side now, whispering in his ear.”

“This changes nothing,” said Sif. “It merely makes it more clear that we must act, and soon.”

“That is not all of it. The Allfather has imprisoned my grandfather once more, and he himself sent me here with a message to you, Sif, and to the Warriors Three. Look for Thor, and help him if it please you. Should you find him, let it be known that he may return to Asgard on one condition.” Here, Sigmund’s eyes flickered over to Loki in his disguise, as if he knew exactly who it was. “He must be able to guarantee that Loki is gone, once and for all. Should any of Thor’s allies attempt to reach Asgard before that, the terms no longer apply.”

 

* * *

Loki _was_ gone. At least seemingly so. Odin’s ultimatum had caused quite an uproar in the camp, and once the worst of the shouting had died down, they had found themselves one god of mischief short. When she had noticed, Sif had cursed for several minutes, using vocabulary that managed to make Tony Stark’s ears to go a bit pink; even Natasha had raised an eyebrow. Now, they were all gathered in a large pavilion, discussing the next course of action. Darcy felt as superfluous here as she felt suspicious of Loki. Even though she should have been listening to the war council, she again and again found herself scanning the large tent for some sign that he was lurking nearby. There was none. No cool breeze to tug at her hair, no silver fox grinning at her from a corner. After an hour of listening to Thor’s friends arguing back and forth, Darcy felt a hand on her shoulder. It was the international woman of mystery, changed into some sort of light armor, looking every bit as perfect in Asgardian leather as in Kevlar.

“Are you all right?” asked Natasha.

“Just tired,” said Darcy with a weak smile.

“You’ve had a rough day.”

“A rough week,” said Darcy. “And before that, I had a rough year. And before that–“

“Come on,” said Natasha. “You can have a lie down in my tent.”

As they walked, Darcy felt just how tired she was, legs wobbling dangerously beneath her. Without a word, Natasha took her arm to steady her. The tent was spacious and comfortable. Judging by the twin bedrolls, it was also clearly occupied by two people. After half a second of confused and somewhat prejudiced thoughts about Tony, Darcy spotted a fitted breastplate that could only belong to Sif.

“Do you need anything else?” asked Natasha. “More food? Some wine to knock you out?”

“I think I’ll just sleep for a while,” said Darcy, and after a long, searching look, Natasha nodded and left.

She slumped down on one of the bedrolls, then spotted a comb sticking out of a pack. She grabbed it and started the slow and somewhat painful process of untangling her hair. Moments later, Loki materialized. Darcy didn’t even flinch. Had this been two weeks ago, she would have been running around the tent, screaming her head off. Now, she simply felt awfully tired. “What do you want?” she asked.

Loki shrugged. “I don’t have time for another council, Darcy. It appears that if I want something done, I had best do it myself.” He sat down opposite her, resting his arms on his knees.

“Do what, exactly?”

“There is only one way to move an army of this size quickly enough for my liking.” He looked at her expectantly.

“The Bifrost?” said Darcy after a couple of seconds of furious thinking. “So you’re going to sneak back into Asgard. Why are you even telling me this?”

“You trusted me when I asked you to. In return, I trust you now.”

She laughed. “No. No, no, no. Did you really think…?” She shook her head. “I’m not actually on Team Loki, you know.”

“I know,” said Loki. He sounded sincere enough, and somehow she felt like she had just told the one lie he had actually bought.

“You heard that Sigmund guy,” said Darcy after a pause that was far too long and expecting twins. “You set foot in Asgard and we’re all screwed.”

“ _Allies_ of Thor,” said Loki. “That hardly sounds like me, does it? I guarantee no one but me will pay if I’m caught. Which, naturally, I won’t be.”

Darcy thought about that. He had a point, she had to admit. “I still don’t see why you’re telling me all of this.”

He glanced aside for a moment. “I won’t be long, so be prepared. Dress warmly. Once I open the bridge, you should keep yourself out of sight.” He met her eyes again. “You could even stay here.”

“What are you talking about?” she huffed.

“You should leave the fighting to those equipped to handle it. And stay away from me.”

“Don't worry, I will,” said Darcy. Then she frowned. “You _did_ piss someone off, didn't you?”

“I did,” said Loki and got to his feet. “And Hel hath no fury like a lover scorned.”

With that, he was gone, and Darcy was left to grind her teeth, trying to ignore the burning hot lump of shameful, irrational jealousy in her belly.

 

* * *

 

Pepper woke with the awful feeling in her gut that she had forgotten something important, and sat up straight, looking around her. She was in the small room next to the kitchen, on a narrow bed with sheets that smelled slightly of mold. Her eyes were puffy and raw, and she cringed to remember her breakdown in front of Clint. She must have fallen asleep some time later. Everything was strangely quiet, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. She smoothed down her hair and straightened her sweater, then ventured out into the house.

By the kitchen table, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was snoring, head on his arms next to a half-empty cup of coffee. Pepper frowned, and peered through the door to the front room where Thor and Jane lay tangled on a spare mattress. Suppressing a pang of sudden anger, she resisted the urge of slamming the door. Quietly, she climbed the narrow stairs to the top floor. In the first bedroom, Barton was asleep on a rug, curled up and looking content. She smiled. He sure deserved a good night’s sleep. Then her smile froze as she realized that the bed next to him was empty. The bed where Professor Adelsten had been lying unconscious a few hours earlier. 

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, sinking to her knees next to Clint. “Hey!” she said loudly, shaking him. Barton barely reacted; he simply smacked his lips, turned over and kept sleeping. “JARVIS, what’s going on?” The silence when there was no reply was deafening. _So this is what Tony was talking about. You don’t miss him until he’s gone_.

Maria Hill was in the second bedroom along with two agents, all as deeply asleep as Barton. Her heart thundering in her chest, Pepper half ran, half slid down the stairs again. She didn’t even bother to check on Jane and Thor before yanking the front door open. In the dim light of dawn, she could see the glowing pentagram out on the lake clearly enough, and the small figure standing in the center of it, hands raised above her head. Pepper pulled on the nearest pair of boots and ran.

“Professor!” she shouted, but Adelsten didn’t appear to hear her. Above her, the clouds were swirling ominously, and on the wind, Pepper could hear fragments of a frantic incantation. She swore loudly before shouting again. “Ingrid, no!”

And then, the sky split in a blinding flash, turning the world from grey to bright white.

Pepper slipped over in surprise, landing on her backside in the powdery snow. When she looked up again, there was someone else out on the lake with Adelsten. A giant of a woman, more than twice the size of the professor. Ingrid herself seemed frozen in shock.

“Where is he?” boomed the voice of the giantess. Adelsten replied something Pepper could not hear, and edged backwards. “Loki?” said the woman. “You are in league with him? Prepare to die, Earth-worm.”

At that, Adelsten turned and ran. Pepper scrambled to her feet again and waved at the professor, but before she had made it twenty yards, the giant woman uttered some unknown word, and with the flick of her hand sent a spear of ice hurling through the air. The thud as it pierced Adelsten made Pepper’s eyes water, and the older woman fell forward, her body sliding a few feet before coming to rest at an unnatural angle. For a second or two, Pepper felt half dead herself. Her heart refused to beat. Her lungs refused to take in air. Then her toes curled in her boots and she turned, preparing for flight.

“ _Miss Potts_ ,” came JARVIS’s voice in her ear.

“JARVIS! Where have you been?”

“ _May I suggest we save this discussion for a later time?_ ”

Pepper looked towards the lake. The giantess had turned to face the pentagram, still etched in the ice and glowing with a cold, blue fire. There was a portal there, and from it, other giants were pouring forth. They were armed and they did not look friendly. “I believe you’re right. JARVIS?”

“ _Three seconds and counting, Miss Potts_.”

“Thank you,” said Pepper, then stretched her arms out and braced herself.

 

* * *

Heimdall watched as Loki moved closer. He was not hiding; that meant he was looking to strike a bargain. He made ready, following the traitor prince as he stepped from shadow to shadow, putting guards to sleep as he went, until at last, they were face to face, separated only by the glittering wall of the cell.

“Heimdall,” said Loki politely with a slight bow.

“Save your courtesies,” said Heimdall. “Why have you returned here?”

Loki flung aside his cloak, revealing a familiar scabbard. “To give you your sword back,” he said.

“You lie, Loki.”

“You know why, oh mighty yet somewhat less than all-seeing guardian of the Bifrost. Your grandson came to Sif with the terms. This is the only way. Add my power to yours, and we should be able to keep the bridge open between Vanaheim and Jotunheim for long enough.”

Reluctantly, Heimdall nodded. Loki spoke a few words, and the cell barrier shimmered and disappeared. True to his word for once, the liesmith held out Hofuð hilt first. Heimdall grabbed it and strapped it on, grateful to once again feel its familiar weight. “Not Jotunheim, Loki, but Midgard,” he said.

Loki stared at him for a few seconds. “She found another way then,” he said. “How?”

“Through a worshipper of yours.”

“What?!”

“As misguided as you, no doubt. She paid for it with her life.”

“A woman, you say?” said Loki with a lopsided smile. “More’s the pity.” He raised his arms, preparing to weave some spell, then let them sink to his sides again. “Who was this woman?”

“A scholar. Elderly, in Midgardian years.”

Loki shrugged, visibly relieved. He rubbed his hands together, then flexed his fingers. “Well then,” he said. “Let’s be on our way. It wouldn’t do if I were to blame for yet _another_ invasion of Midgard.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took me so long. I've had my work cut out for me, trying to merge these story lines without turning everything into one big explanation scene. There's been so much cutting and pasting and revising and starting over... But here it is! Thank you, as always, [DaemonMeg](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DaemonMeg) for your support and help. You are an absolute treasure.
> 
> Also, if there are still Loki fans out there who aren't reading the [Loki: Agent of Asgard](https://comicstore.marvel.com/Loki-Agent-of-Asgard/comics-series/13941) comics, I suggest you immediately rectify the situation because it's honestly the best thing ever. The best.


	12. Shine Without Fear

_What do I fear? I am a part of infinity_

_I am a part of the vast power of All_

_a single world within a million worlds_

_a star of the first magnitude, extinguished at last_

_Triumph to live, triumph to breathe, triumph to exist!_

_Triumph to feel time flow icy cold through ones veins_

_and hear the silent flood of the night_

_and stand on a mountain under the sun_

_I walk on sunshine, I stand on sunshine_

_I know of nothing but sunshine_

 

_Time - transformess, time - destroyess, time - enchantress,_

_do you come to me with new lies, a thousand cunning tricks to offer me an existence_

_as a small seed, as a coiled serpent, as a rock in an ocean?_

_Time - you murderess - begone from me!_

_The sun fills my chest to the brim with sweet honey,_

_and she says: all stars must die one day, but they always shine without fear_

 

-Edith Södergran, 1916

 

* * *

By the time Maria opened her eyes, and before she even had the time to fully register where she was, she was on her feet, gun drawn. _Drugs?_ No, her mouth tasted normal, and she didn’t feel even the least bit groggy. Other theories would have to wait. At her feet, Burke and Martinez were stirring. At a low groan from the latter, she put a firm toe in her side, silencing her with a stern glance. She urged the agents to get up, then led the way out onto the narrow landing outside. The slightest of movements to her left made her snap around, and she found herself gun-to-arrowpoint with Barton. Relaxing somewhat, she quickly lowered her guard and raised an eyebrow in question.

“The nutty professor is gone,” Barton whispered. “I don’t know how–,” He was interrupted by a loud crash and a surprised shout. Evidently, Thor was awake.

“Let’s go,” said Maria and darted down the stairs, only just managing to avoid running headfirst into Thor’s muscular and thoroughly undressed chest at the bottom of them.

“We must get Jane to safety at once,” he bellowed. “Angerboda is attacking.”

Jane Foster herself squeezed past, shooting a tired look at Thor. “Call for backup,” she said. “Pepper is out there, blasting frost giants on her own.”

As Barton pushed her aside and made for the door, Maria glanced out the window and swore under her breath. “Team, outside! Martinez, you have command!” She touched her earpiece. “Open secure line 6169.” She slapped the team members’ shoulders on their way past while the fast-dial to Fury connected.

“ _Yes?_ ” Fury’s voice was the kind of hyper-alert that screamed of being woken by the phone.

“Backup, double time. I need everything we’ve got. Alien attack. Most likely Loki is involved.”

“ _Hang on…What? An alien attack in the middle of nowhere? In rural Sweden? Or is my GPS–_ “

“Your GPS is working just fine! Backup, Nick. _Now_. Disconnect call.”

Once outside, she could see Potts in her suit, circling around a huge woman out on the frozen lake, dodging flashes of some hidden weapon or magic. There were a number of fallen creatures around them, and another few were making their way up towards the team Martinez was leading. Just as she was about to sprint off to join them, a strange glow above her caught her eye. She couldn’t help but gasp. The sky to the east was alive, a sea inverted, green and blue and shimmering, waves drifting back and forth against the brilliant backdrop of the Milky Way.

“Isn’t that…?” came a voice behind her.

Maria turned to find Jane Foster, and next to her, Thor. “The northern lights, right?” said Maria. “I’ve seen them before, but not like this.”

“No, I don’t imagine you have,” said Jane, then made a happy sound and threw herself around Thor’s neck.

“Oh,” said Maria, realization dawning. “ _Oh._ ”

“Yes,” said Thor. “It is the Bifrost. With any luck, my father will send assistance.”

 

* * *

“Wait here with Hogun and the rear guard,” shouted Natasha over the roaring of the rainbow bridge. “Once you pass through, get yourself to safety!”

Darcy Lewis shook her head, looking panicked. “No!” she pleaded. “Let me go with you.”

“Hogun is a decent guy,” she assured her. “It’s Fandral you want to watch out for.” She turned to go after Sif who was waving impatiently at her, but Darcy flung herself at her arm, clinging to it desperately.

“I don’t doubt it, but is he the ultimate survivor? I’d rather place my bets on you.”

Gritting her teeth, Natasha considered simply shaking her off, but she had always been a sucker for compliments. “Fine,” she said and pulled her along towards the Bifrost.

It felt much like the last time, except that instead of piggybacking on Tony, she now had a passenger of her own. Darcy was holding on for dear life, screaming at the top of her lungs as they jetted up, up, and away. Next to them, Sif was laughing, face turned skyward and seemingly enjoying the sensation. All went black for a brief moment, and then a rush of cold air hit them as they began plummeting. 

“Brace yourself!” she said to Darcy, but judging from the way her face was squashed into Natasha’s armpit, she was too scared to hear her. The landing was hard, and they tumbled over in powdery snow in a forest clearing. Keeping a firm hold on Darcy, Natasha rolled them over and then pulled her on her feet.

“Move!” said Sif, already sprinting away. Natasha dragged Darcy along just as others started dropping in behind them.

“Where are we?” asked Darcy, out of breath and barely managing to stumble away from the landing site before being squashed by an incoming Aesir.

Natasha glanced up at the stars, then at the compass on her wrist watch. “Somewhere in Scandinavia,” she said. Ahead, she could see the forest thinning, and as they moved away from the roaring of the Bifrost, she could hear the unmistakable sounds of fighting.

“Looks like we’re just in time,” she said.

“In time for what?” asked Darcy.

“Angerboda!” said Sif, and as they stepped out of the woods and onto the shores of a frozen lake, they could all see her.

Natasha turned to Darcy, who was staring at the giantess with wide eyes. “Wait here,” she said. “And stay safe, OK? If things start going to shit, just get the hell out of here.” Darcy simply nodded slowly, then backed away towards the fir trees again.

“Time for battle, sister,” said Sif.

Natasha loosened her guns in their holsters and followed her friend towards they fray. She could see something flying around near the far side of the lake; something that looked impossibly familiar. Frowning, she donned her earpiece and experimentally switched it on.

“ _…on the eastern shore, make sure they’re friendly!_ ”

“Hill?” Sif gave her a bewildered look, and Natasha motioned to her ear.

“ _Romanov, is that you?_ ”

“Who else would it be? I’m still friendly, by the way.”

“ _Natasha?_ ” came a third voice.

“…Pepper?”

For a few seconds, the comm was quiet, and then she heard a little sob. “ _Is…_ _Is Tony with you?_ ”

“He is. Banner and Darcy Lewis, too.” There was another sob, and what sounded like a ‘Thank God’. Something squirmed uncomfortably in Natasha’s chest, so she shook her head and focused on the now. “Pepper, is that you in a suit?”

Pepper cleared her throat and sniffed. “ _Yes. Listen, keep away from the giant. She’s locked inside some kind of force field that seems impenetrable. But she’s also stuck where she is. We’re trying to neutralize her minions while we figure out how to disable that shield._ ”

“Roger that,” said Natasha and motioned at Sif to veer right and circle around Angerboda. Three enemy targets were approaching, so she reached for her gun and took aim.“Anything you can tell me about these guys?”

“Avoid their bare skin!” said Sif, gripping her twin blade tightly. “Their blood is alive with frostfire, and it burns even us Aesir. To a mortal, it may very well be fatal. Do not let them touch you!”

She nodded and fired at the kneecap of an oncoming giant. It barely slowed, so she put the next bullet through its eye, then drew a dagger with her left hand and slipped behind Sif. The warrior slashed at a second monster, severing its head from the body in one fluid stroke, and when the third came at her, Natasha stepped behind it and slid the knife between its ribs. Sif drove her sword through its throat, then wrenched it aside onto the snow. 

“No one touches me without permission,” Natasha said, kneeling down swiftly to wipe the blade on the snow. “At least not if they’re looking to hang on to their limbs a while longer.”

Sif smiled at her, eyebrow arched. “I am honored.”

 

* * *

Darcy’s heart was pounding hard in her chest. Even though she was standing perfectly still at the edge of the forest, her mouth tasted of metal and her legs were shivering with nerves. It was difficult to get a clear grasp of who was actually winning. One thing was certain though - the big bad ice queen was surrounded by some kind of force field that couldn’t be breached, and inside, a portal was open, bringing wave upon wave of frost giants through. A ways off to her left, the Asgardians and Vanir were still flooding the frozen lake. By the time the last few of the army had made their way to the battle the ice was groaning, and she edged even further from the shoreline.

“Don’t worry,” came a familiar voice. “What you hear is the ice setting, and fast. The lake will be frozen solid soon. No doubt _her_ doing.”

She glanced aside and found Loki standing a few feet away, looking criminally good in tight fitting leather armor. “How can you tell?” she asked.

“I’m something of an expert on these matters,” he said airily, and smirked. “I half expected to find you in the vanguard, but it seems you listened for once.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” she said. “It’s pretty obvious that I’m not cut out for that.” She nodded towards the raging battle.

“You should leave,” said Loki. “Circle around the lake. There’s a road just–,”

“Who is she?” interrupted Darcy.

He came to stand next to her. “She’s called Angerboda.”

“I know that. But who is she?”

“She is the queen of the Iron Wood on Jotunheim. Half Aesir, half frost giant, all evil.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” she said and grinned at him. Loki looked less amused. “What’s your beef with her?” asked Darcy.

“We made a bargain. I failed to keep my part of it.”

“What was the bargain?”

Loki gave her a measuring look. “She lent me her power. Enough for me to incapacitate Odin and take over Asgard.”

Darcy nodded. That, at least, made sense. “And what did she want in return?”

“A daughter.” That ridiculous pang of jealousy struck her again, and she felt the color rise in her cheeks. Loki looked at her, amused. “Yes, we lay together,” he said. “Does that bother you?”

She huffed. “No. It’s none of my business which supervillain sleeps with who.”

A loud bang from the battlefield made them both turn around. “You should leave, Darcy,” said Loki again. “I need to think of a way to get her out of that circle, and once I do…”

“Wait,” said Darcy. “Is she just pissed, or is it personal?”

“I can’t be sure, but I like to think I made an impression,” said Loki. Then he frowned. “Why?”

“I think I might have a plan.”

 

* * *

“Where is he?” Pepper scanned the shoreline frantically.

“ _Mr. Stark has not yet entered…_ _Wait._ ”

“JARVIS?”

“ _Miss Potts. He is back_.” JARVIS somehow managed to sound dramatic. 

“Tony?” she said, heart beating hard in anticipation.

“ _Mr. Stark is not wearing his comm device, Miss. Allow me to direct you_.”

The heads-up display flashed, bright green arrows giving her direction. Pepper snapped her wrists violently with the result that she shot straight up into the air, then crashed right back down as her attempt to straighten her course failed miserably.

“Uff,” she groaned, sprawled on the ice. “This thing should come with airbags.”

“ _Do you wish to engage the autopilot_ ”

“It has an autopilot? And you tell me this _now_?”

“ _It’s standard issue, Miss Potts_. _I assumed you knew._ ”

“Then do it.” She stood up, but as the suit floated smoothly upwards of its own accord, she caught sight of Hill and Barton not far away. They were surrounded, Clint sending fire arrows off faster than what should have been humanly possible and Maria picking off target after target with her guns. Still, the frost giants were advancing. Pepper glanced desperately towards where she knew Tony was, then swore. “Hang on a second, JARVIS. I need the wheel again.”

A little more carefully, she dropped towards the trapped pair and managed to dropkick a giant, knocking it aside just as it raised its hands to claw at Barton. 

“Nice move,” he shouted over his shoulder, nocking another arrow and loosing it in one fluid motion.

“Thanks,” said Pepper, using her repulsors to send another two giants flying. “I’m starting to get the hang of this thing.”

“You know it comes with super-heated fire, right?” said Barton, ducked a blow and kicked at yet another monster, then swiftly drew a dagger. “Now would be a really good time to turn it on.”

Just as Clint made to slice the belly of the giant open, Pepper focused all of her repulsor power at it and flung it some thirty yards, straight into another group of advancing enemies. “No,” she said between gritted teeth.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t,” she threw another giant, “like,“ and another, “ _killing_ stuff.”

“Watch out!” said Hill, just as something hit Pepper with almost shocking force. 

The giantess was focussing on them, hurling javelin-like icicles that she seemed to grab from thin air. “Get behind me!” said Pepper, braced herself and started deflecting the frozen spears with her arms. Angerboda roared in frustration, then sent a hailstorm of needle-sharp missiles their way. Pepper crouched over Barton and Hill, huddled together on the ground, her arms shaking with the onslaught of the ice rain. To either side she could see frost giants dropping, caught in the line of fire, and swallowed hard at the thought of Angerboda’s ruthlessness. Then the storm abated, and she turned back to Clint and Maria.

“You all right?” she asked.

“Just about,” said Barton with a wince, clutching at his arm. The fabric of his suit had been torn, and an icy missile was lodged in his shoulder.

“Backup’s not far away,” said Hill. “We’ll get you to a medic as soon as–,”

“ _Pepper, we need you!_ ” came Natasha’s voice over the comm. 

Pepper spun around. “Where are you?”

“ _Your smartass boyfriend is trying to play hero without a proper suit_. _We can’t get to him_. _He’s going to need rescue._ ”

She could see it, and felt her blood freeze. Not only Tony, but the Hulk as well, heading straight for Angerboda. “JARVIS, let’s go!” she shouted, and the suit took off. She was fast, and Tony as well, but the Hulk was somehow faster. He collided with the force field surrounding the ice queen, and the sheer impact was enough to knock him out. He was shrinking, resuming his human form, naked on the ice. “God damn it all to hell,” said Pepper, angry tears stinging her eyes. “JARVIS, we need to get Bruce.”

She swept down and reached out for the limp body, scooping it up just as Angerboda made to hurl an icicle at him. She dumped him unceremoniously in the snow some hundred yards away, then sped back. Tony was flying around Angerboda without his full suit, using his palm repulsors to ineffectually blast at the shield, only just dodging her attacks.

“Get out, you idiot!” she shouted, hurtling towards him. The giantess had her arms raised and was taking aim, hands glowing ominously. Yelling at the top of her lungs, Pepper focused all her power into one final push and sent a blast to shove Tony out of the way, to send him to safety. There was a shock, and he spun away, shrinking rapidly from view. But something was wrong. The world was going black, and it was her flying helplessly, not him. It was _her_ –

 

* * *

Jane saw Pepper flying through the air like a rag doll, and her legs acted on their own. She was vaguely aware of Thor at her side as she sprinted across the snow, ducking for hostile and friendly fire alike. Skidding to a halt by her side, she knelt down and lightly patted the visor of the helm.

“Pepper? Are you okay?”

“ _I’m afraid…_ _Miss Potts…_ _needs a bit of a lie-down_.”

“JARVIS?” said Jane incredulously. “You sound _drunk_.”

“ _Perhaps. It’s either that…_ _or I’m falmunctioning._ ”

“Is Lady Virginia safe?” asked Thor.

“ _Mrs. Stark is…_ _unconscious but her stital vats are tip-top_.”

Jane breathed a sigh of relief, then did a double take and frowned. “Wait, what do you mean, Mrs. Stark?”

“ _A man…_ _can dream…_ _Can’t he?_ ”

With that, the lights on the suit flickered and winked out. “You’ll have to carry her,” said Jane to Thor, but the God of Thunder wasn’t listening.

“Loki!” he said under his breath, taking a step forward. Then he stopped, and his mouth dropped open.

Whipping around, she saw what he saw. _Darcy?_ Darcy. Undeniably, unmistakably _Darcy_.  Apparently alive and well and… Pushing Loki in front of her, his hands tied behind his back? Speechless, Jane watched as her friend walked confidently towards Angerboda. “What’s going on,” she breathed. “What’s he up to? We have to–“

“No,” said Thor, holding her back. “Wait.”

“Don’t tell me you’re about to trust him again!”

“Not him. But I do trust Darcy.”

“Angerboda!” Darcy called out in a commanding voice. “Stay your hand.” She wore a flowing dress of an Asgardian cut, and some sort of crown in her dark curls. Loki, on the other hand, looked disheveled and weak where he stumbled and sank to his knees as Darcy tugged at his restraints. The frost giant queen turned around, and Jane felt Thor’s hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

“At last, the oathbreaker comes forth, and in chains no less!” said Angerboda triumphantly. “My thanks, mortal. Perhaps I shall spare you. _He_ , on the other hand…” she said and plucked an icicle from the air, then hurled it at Loki. Darcy, however, flicked it aside nonchalantly, sending splinters flying as it crashed into the ice.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” said Darcy, voice dead calm and as frosty as the air surrounding them.

Angerboda seemed momentarily lost for words. Then she drew herself up. “Who are you, bloodworm? You are no Aesir. What powers have you?”

“Enough,” said Darcy smugly. “Enough to make myself queen of Asgard.”

Thor snorted out loud, and Jane realized she was gaping. Angerboda looked livid. “You poor, misguided little lump of coal,” she spat, but her eyes flickered nervously to Loki, who was still on his knees, his head hanging low and his shoulders haunched. “You should have stayed on Asgard, hiding in your pretty little gardens with your pretty little warmblooded servants. Loki Laufeyson owes me a debt, and now that you have brought him here, I will take what is mine.” She looked almost on the verge of stepping outside her protective force field, so enraged was she, fist knotted at her sides and teetering on the very edge of the runic circle.

“The child?” said Darcy and smirked. “Just how caught up in lust were you that you failed to notice a certain lack of, well, _seed_ as you attempted to plant her in your belly?”

With an angry scream, Angerboda sent another onslaught of icy missiles towards Darcy and Loki, but Darcy somehow managed to deflect them all.

“I daresay my own plans will come to… ah, _fruition_.” Darcy placed a protective hand on her stomach. “I can already feel her little heart, beating away.”

And then, a lot of things happened at once. Angerboda stepped outside the circle and ran towards Darcy. Darcy somehow sent a gust of air past the frost giant, wiping the runes from the snow, then turned to flee, Loki in tow. The sound of a helicarrier could be heard in the distance. Thor said something about Loki, then took off running, but all Jane could think of was the bottle of H2N she still had in a pocket of her furs. Her hand went to it, clutching it to make sure. Thor sprinted on, but what difference did it make? Angerboda was closing the gap to Darcy too fast. Unless… She dropped to her knees next to Pepper.

“JARVIS, work with me!”

“ _Fiss Moster?_ ” slurred JARVIS, and the lights on the suit flickered uncertainly.

“All your power to the thrusters. Now!”

“ _But Miss Potts…_ ”

“Just do it!”

The suit jerked to life, and Jane only just managed to cling onto its back as it jetted off, jolting and sputtering, but flying at a reasonable speed. Clamping her legs about Pepper’s waist, she grabbed a hold of the arms and steered them towards Angerboda.

“You’ll rue the day you were born, ashflake,” shouted the ice queen as she raised her hands for an attack on Darcy. 

“She is _not_ an ashflake!” yelled Jane. “She’s a star of the first fucking magnitude! I need heat, JARVIS!”

She threw the last bottle of hydrogen sulfide at Angerboda, then wrenched up an arm of Pepper’s suit, sending a jet of fire towards it. The deafening blast echoed across the lake, its shockwave kissing Jane’s cheeks with warmth as she swept them up into the air and away from the explosion.

 

* * *

With a whisper of magic, the illusion of Loki’s body melted away from Darcy, and she drew a breath of relief when he too assumed his normal shape. Seeing herself do magic and out-sass a frost giant had admittedly been cool, but not cooler than it had been utterly outlandish. She would definitely think twice about suggesting a body swap again. As usual, Loki seemed unfazed. 

“Someone _always_ has to meddle,” he said irritably, brushing a clump snow from his armor.

Darcy stared at the half-melted pile of slush that had once been Angerboda. A group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were examining it. “It was effective though,” she said.

She looked over at Jane. The little scientist was talking to Maria Hill, Director Fury and, of all people, a frost giant. They seemed to be negotiating some kind of deal. Meanwhile, Tony Stark was ordering a team of medics to back off as he carefully lifting an unconscious Pepper Potts onto a stretcher. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to face the crown prince of Asgard.

“Thor!” she squealed and threw herself around his neck. He laughed a deep rumbling laugh, lifted her off the ground and swung her around a couple of times. As he set her down, she could see that Loki wore a strange frown as he watched them. Then Thor turned to him, and the frown changed into a determined scowl.

“Brother,” he said.

“Loki,” said Thor. “You have much to answer for.”

“I have plenty of answers, but I doubt they’re the ones you will want to hear.”

“I need not hear them. You usurped the throne of Asgard, did you not? Where is father?”

“Back on the throne. He has ordered you to come home. Permanently. No more avenging, no more Shawarma on Fridays, no more Jane Fo–,”

“Where is Mjölnir?” growled Thor.

“With father, of course. I’ve never been able to wield it, have I? I simply kept it safe for you while you were working on your unworthiness.”

“ _My_ unworthiness?” snorted Thor. “Have a care what you say, brother. Once we return to Asgard I imagine it will be your unworthiness that comes most immediately to father’s mind.”

Loki smiled, but his eyes were hard as flint. “Not if I return with you. Believe me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you not heard the terms of your pardon? Perhaps Darcy can fill you in. Her you’ll believe, at least.”

“ _Pardon_?” said Thor. “Darcy, what madness is this?”

Darcy shrugged apologetically. “I guess you could say Odin’s not exactly over the moon about your disappearing act. He issued an ultimatum. Either you kill Loki, or you’re not welcome back.”

“Under pain of _your_ death,” added Loki.

Thor stared at her, then at Loki, then back to her again. “He is my _brother_. Despite what he has done, I would never harm him.”

Loki barked a laugh. “The number of times you have–,”

“Shut up, Loki,” said Thor, then turned his face to the sky. “I will have the truth of this. Did Heimdall come with you?” he asked Darcy.

“He and I kept the Bifrost open for Sif,” said Loki. “You will find him over yonder.” He gestured towards the edge of the forest.

“Is that so?” asked Thor, and gave Loki a thoughtful look. “Brother, will you be so good as to place yourself in the care of S.H.I.E.L.D. while I go to Asgard? A show of goodwill today will go a long way, I think.”

“I will,” said Loki. “But should you fail to return…”

“I will return, or perish in the attempt.”

“Indeed,” said Loki. Then, to Darcy’s surprise, the brothers embraced briefly. Then Loki turned to her. “Thank you,” he said simply, then walked off towards the agents guarding Angerboda’s corpse, hands held high.

“And that is another story I will have the truth of one day,” said Thor. “Did he treat you ill?”

“Not terribly, no,” she said, and he seemed to relax somewhat. He looked like he was about to inquire further, so she quickly added, “You should say goodbye to Jane before you go.”

As she watched him go, someone slung a blanket over her shoulders, checked her pulse, and gave her a cup of hot broth. She sniffed it absentmindedly. It smelled like flu and fever and greasy chicken.

“Ew,” muttered Darcy and looked up. Natasha was standing next to her. 

“Drink up,” she said.

She bit back the ‘yes, mom’. “Is there any coffee?” she said instead.

“After,” said Natasha and nodded towards the cup in her hands.

In the distance, they could see the Bifrost, and a couple of minutes later, Jane came walking up to them. Wordlessly, she stretched her arms out and caught Darcy in a tight embrace.

“Are you okay, Darce?” she said after a while, and her voice sounded slightly thick.

“Thanks to you, I’m fine,” she said, then wrinkled her nose. “Jane, what the hell are you wearing? You look freaking awesome, but you smell like something that the cat dragged in. Several weeks ago.”

Her friend looked down on her fur-clad vest and kilt-like skirt. “Oh. Yeah. I didn't really have time to look around for anything else. It’s warm, though.”

“She looks and smells like a true warrior.” They turned around to see Sif walking towards them, blood-spattered and limping slightly. “It is good to see you, Jane Foster,” she said.

“And you,” said Jane.

“How did you fare in your negotiations?”

Jane let out an explosive sigh. “Well. At least no one’s threatening to kill anyone anymore. Vakti is reasonable, and so is Hill.”

Sif nodded, then said, “Heimdall wishes to speak with you.”

“With me?” asked Jane.

“You and Darcy Lewis.”

Darcy looked at Jane, who shrugged.

“We’ll all go,” said Natasha.

Heimdall was seated on an ice-trapped rock near the shore, seemingly lost in thought and staring out over the lake. His armor was coated in dried blood, but the blade that lay across his lap was spotless; the snow at his feet showed signs that he had recently cleaned it. As they approached, he rose and looked at them in turn, and Darcy found that golden gaze as mesmerizing as last time, but now she thought she could detect a twinkle of mirth when he met her eyes.

“Thor visits with his father,” he said. He bent down and brushed the snow from the ice, revealing the hard, black surface below. “I cannot show you everything, but you are welcome to share the parts that I can.”

Heimdall extended his hand, and wordlessly, Sif grasped it, then held her free hand out to Natasha. There was a moment of hesitation before she took it. Darcy slipped her left hand into one that had probably been the death of countless people, and her right grabbed Jane’s small, familiar fingers. She gave them a little squeeze as her friend grabbed Heimdall’s hand to close the circle. She felt Jane jerk slightly, followed by a buzz of magic that shot through her. From the looks on their faces, Sif was accustomed to it, and if Natasha was surprised, she didn’t let it show.

“Watch,” said Sif, and they bent over the ice where a glowing fog was now churning slowly.

The misty swirls began to grow into shape, and soon, Darcy could see Odin on his throne. To his right, Jarl was standing, and before them, Thor was kneeling.

“I can’t hear what they’re saying,” she muttered to Jane.

“Such is the nature of scrying,” said Heimdall. “I will relate to you the details of their conversation.” For a few seconds, he was silent, a faraway look in his eyes. Then he began speaking again, his deep, melodic voice pleasantly soothing. “After the battle of Lake Siljan, Thor came before his father to discover the truth of Loki’s supposed death and Odin’s rule in the year that followed.”

“What’s with the past tense?” hissed Jane.

“What he tells us has already come to pass,” said Sif quietly.

“So it’s like live streaming with a delay in case there’s a nip slip?” asked Natasha.

Darcy snorted, but at a stern glance from Sif suppressed the laughter that threatened to bubble forth.

“Odin did not answer Thor’s questions,” Heimdall continued. “The All-Father was wroth that Thor had shirked his responsibilities, and asked him why he had abandoned his home for Midgard. Thor responded truthfully that he had desired it ever since first meeting the Lady Jane, and that Loki in the guise of their father had implied that he ought to follow his heart.”

In the ice, Darcy could see Odin rising from his throne and throwing his spear down in anger. Next to her, Jane winced. 

“Thor begged forgiveness of his father for being blinded by his own greed. He explained that he had been too eager to trust the false All-Father’s words that he had pushed aside his suspicions.” Odin seemed somewhat mollified by Thor’s words. He bent down to grab his spear, and Jarl came to his side to help him. When Heimdall next spoke, his voice was hard. “Jarl of Vanaheim then whispered in the All-Father’s ear that he ought not listen to someone who had betrayed Asgard so many times, and that he should remember that Thor was even now breaking the terms that they had negotiated for his return.”

“What negotiations?” said Sif. “They were demands, and unreasonable ones! He ought not listen to that venomous snake.”

“No, he ought not,” said Heimdall, suddenly alert and looking around at them. “And he ought not have counted on my kin to run his dark errands. Whatever the outcome of this meeting, Jarl will pay.”

They turned again to the ice, where Odin was waving Jarl aside impatiently. Thor stood, and it became very evident how much stronger and taller than his father he looked.

“What’s he saying?” asked Darcy.

“Thor wished to know where the hammer Mjölnir was,” said Heimdall, once again falling into the melodious voice that practically made Darcy smell campfires. “The All-Father said that Thor could retrieve Mjölnir if he would swear to do his duty as the first son and heir of Asgard. Thor replied that he would gladly do it. Odin was pleased, and urged Thor to call upon Mjölnir so that he could rid the nine realms of Loki once and for all.”

Heimdall fell quiet, and Darcy could see Thor reach out his arm. Mjölnir flew through an open door and readily into his hand, and as if by magic, the weird mishmash of furs and S.H.I.E.L.D. gear transformed into armor and cape in silver and red. She went cold, and watched the ice intently, not daring to look around for the others’ reactions.

“The prince of Asgard held his weapon aloft, and once more its power flowed through him. The he spoke. He vowed on his hammer to fulfill his duty as the first son and heir of Asgard. This duty, he said, was one older and more sacred than the All-Father himself, and did not involve fratricide. Odin was consumed with anger. He attempted to call Mjölnir back, but the hammer did not heed him, for despite all the ill deeds Loki had done, demanding the death of a son is unworthier still.”

Darcy felt her blood pounding in her temples. So many thing hinged on Thor getting it right, on saying the right thing. And then it apparently all went horribly, horribly wrong, because Odin was raising his spear and aiming it at Thor. 

“No!” said Jane, wriggled her hand out of Darcy’s grip and threw herself down on the ice, clawing uselessly at the rapidly fading image. Darcy bent down, but Sif was quicker.

“Stay here and watch,” she told Natasha while pulling Jane away gently.

Natasha nodded and quickly reached out for Heimdall. Darcy took the hand Jane had been holding, and a light exploded from the clear patch of ice between them. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away, but the Asgardian watcher didn’t seem troubled by the sudden brightness, and continued speaking in a calm voice.

“Just as Odin had prepared to strike Thor down, a light filled the hall, blinding everyone within.”

“And without,” muttered Natasha.

Darcy squinted, and as the light faded somewhat, she looked again, letting her eyes adjust. Between Odin and Thor, a woman was standing. Or rather, light in the shape of a woman.

“It was queen Frigga, descended from the Gladsheimr. At the sight of her, Odin and his son were filled with love and dread in equal amounts, for once the dead leave the Golden Hall, they do not return.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice, and as Darcy glanced up, she could see that his eyes shone with tears. In the throne room, Odin had sunk to the floor, clutching at his spear like a man drowning in quicksand. “Frigga had but a few brief moments, so she went to her husband and held him in her arms. Then she whispered in his ear to not let his love for her turn to hate…” Heimdall drew a sharp breath, and Darcy felt him let go of her hand. At once, the image beneath them began fading.

“What’s going on?” asked Natasha.

“Rest assured that Thor is safe,” said Heimdall, “but this is not for outside eyes and ears.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, then closed his eyes, evidently not in the mood for discussing the abrupt end to their strange little seance. 

Natasha looked at Darcy and shrugged. “I’ll let Jane know that Thor is OK,” she said.

“No, I’ll go,” said Darcy. She’d barely had the time to say hello, never mind getting an explanation for her recent ascent to badasshood. 

“If you can wait five minutes, I think there’s someone else who wants a word,” said Natasha, glancing over Darcy’s shoulder.

She turned her head and saw Loki standing a little way away. His hands and feet were bound by chains and cuffs, and a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was hovering nervously by his side.

“I–,” said Darcy, turning back to Natasha, but she was gone. “Shit,” she muttered. She wavered mentally for a couple of seconds, then sighed and walked over to Loki.

“Well?” he asked. He was smirking, but the smile seemed stiff and somehow fake.

“I probably shouldn’t even be talking to you,” she said. Although he was standing quite placidly, it seemed unlikely that the chains would be enough to restrain him. “Do those actually work?” she asked, pointing at the cuffs at his wrists.

“I couldn’t hurt a fly if I tried.” He was looking right at her, face open and honest. Far too honest.

“You’re such a liar,” said Darcy.

“You wound me,” he said, and for a second the smile reached his eyes. “Now tell me, has my brother made any headway with Odin?”

Darcy was about to answer, but the roar of the Bifrost opening nearby drowned out everything for a few seconds. “Why don’t you ask him?” she said when the noise had died down, and nodded towards Thor, who was just catching Jane in an embrace.

As they walked up to the pair, Jane whispered something to Thor, then came to meet Darcy, hooking her arm into hers. 

“You’re alive,” said Loki. He sounded strangely excited.

“So are you,” said Thor. “For the time being.”

“As always, I’m at your mercy, brother. Or should I say All-Father?”

“No, you shouldn’t. Perhaps you never will.”

Loki’s face fell. “Odin still lives? Then have you come to kill me?” In an instant, the cuffs and chains rattled to the ground, and Loki drew his daggers.

“You do not listen very well, do you, Loki?” said Thor in a sharp voice. “Not half an hour ago I said I would not harm you. Is your memory so poor? We both live - we _all_ live - thanks to mother.”

Arms dropping to his sides, Loki stepped backwards. “You spoke to mother?”

“She spoke to _father_. She gave up her place in the Golden Hall to spare our lives…”

“Your life,” interrupted Loki.

“ _Our_ lives,” said Thor. “Do not belittle her, Loki. Not now.”

Loki was quiet for a while, his jaw set defiantly. “What of Asgard?” he said finally. “And the throne?”

Thor shook his head. “For now, the gates are shut. But Heimdall is with us, and eight of the nine realms are still accessible.”

“Oh, good,” said Loki, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I hear Nifelheim is wonderful this time of year.”

“You needn’t worry,” said Thor. “I’m not planning to visit any time soon.”

“Not you, perhaps, but–,”

“You were right about one thing, Loki. You _are_ at my mercy. Not even mother’s grace is without limit.”

Loki snorted. “So I’m _your_ prisoner now?”

“You’re under my protection.”

“I don’t want it.”

“ _It’s not optional_ ,” said Thor. “I will honor her memory, and so should you.”

“And how would we do that, shut out from our home?” By now, Darcy was fairly sure he was simply arguing for the sake of arguing. 

Thor reached out and laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “She said we both still lack humility. Who better to learn from than humans?”

Loki said nothing, but as they walked across the ice towards the waiting helicarrier, his eyes lingered thoughtfully on Darcy. 

 

* * *

 

 

The world was black and her body was aching. Even breathing was torture, and each time her chest rose the pressure against her ribs stung. With the slightest of movements she tried lifting her hand, then winced at the spikes of pain shooting up her arm.

“Pepper, honey?”

It was Tony’s voice, and she smiled weakly. “No,” she managed. “Stop it.”

“It’s all right. You’re all right.” He sounded so relieved.

Eyes still firmly shut, she gave the most minuscule shakes of her head. “Don’t mess around, Tony.”

“I’m not. I’m not messing around.”

Pepper opened her eyes. As the room swam into view, her other senses seemed invaded. The air smelled of sanitizer and some machine was making soft bleeping noises. This was a hospital, and she was in a bed, a drip feed on her right hand. The hand that Tony was holding. A sob wracked her body, sending another jolt of pain through her limbs.

“Hey,” he said. “None of that now. You’ll set me off as well. I have a press conference waiting and you know what crying does for my complexion.”

She nodded, then winced, and when he squeezed her hand, it all welled up again. “Where were you?” she demanded. The question that had eaten away at her for the past two weeks sounded raw and harsh now, but Tony simply leaned closer.

“It’s a long story, but to sum up, I’ve been dragged around an alien world by two murderous women, Errol Flynn and a bunch of viking looking fellows who think wireless is some kind of hardcore version of rock climbing. In hindsight, I suppose it could have been one of those life lessons that Fate gives you - get in touch with your inner self, connecting with your feelings while disconnected from your phone type deals.”

“What did you find out?”

“Not a goddamned thing I didn’t already know.”

Pepper smiled, tried shifting her position slightly, and grunted in pain. “Everything hurts, Tony.”

“They’ve been holding off the meds while you were passed out, but don’t worry, I’ve already pressed the button on the wall here that says class A drugs in Swedish.”

“How bad is it?”

“ _Severe concussion, five broken ribs and some bruising, Miss Potts_.”

“Stop butting in, JARVIS,” said Tony. “He’s right though. It’s not too bad. The suit was a bad fit, that’s all. You should try it on more often.”

“How long was I out for?” she asked.

“Some twelve hours. Barton said you had sleep you needed to catch up on.”

“Well, I’m awake now. And you have that press conference to go to.”

Tony smiled, then made himself comfortable in his chair. “They’ve been waiting for half a day. Another hour or two won’t make much difference.”

 

* * *

There was only one five star hotel in the greater Siljan area, and Tony Stark had bought it. Not just made reservations for rooms, but _bought_ it. It had been fully booked with well-off Swedes on holiday for Christmas and a Norwegian delegation from an oil company, and although the management had told Tony they couldn’t possibly make an exception, he had dealt with the problem in the only way he knew how - by stuffing money into people’s pockets until they said yes.

The result for Darcy was a queen-sized bed with crisp sheets, a long hot shower and then finding her own suitcase, flown in from Stockholm, waiting outside the bathroom door. The pair of sneakers that had nearly been the death of her on the icy sidewalks of the capital. Her own underwear. _A clean bra_. She carefully folded the clothes Loki had magicked from a dress and thin air, and put them in a separate compartment in the bag, half wondering whether they would eventually turn to dust. There was a knock on the door.

“Darcy?” called Jane from outside. “Dinner’s ready.”

She yanked her shoes on and went to open the door. “Will there be pickled herring?” she asked.

“Probably?” said Jane apologetically.

“Good,” said Darcy. “I need something to convince me today actually happened. That the last two weeks _actually_ happened.”

As it turned out, there were meatballs as well, and cocktail sausages, and rye bread and creamy, white cheese, and that strange fizzy drink that looked deceptively like Coke but was something entirely different, and rice pudding and then champagne. Lots of champagne. She had a glass with her where she sat in a chair by the open fire, and she sipped it thoughtfully. She was warm, comfortable, and more relaxed than in weeks. It should have been a good feeling, but most of all, she felt empty - almost numb.

Everyone else seemed to have paired off, or joined their separate little cliques. Tony Stark and Pepper Potts had disappeared halfway through dinner, and she was pretty sure it was Pepper’s doing that they’d showed up at all, the CEO of Stark Industries limping slightly but with her head held high, and Tony by her side, her arm in his to steady her, grinning like a loon. Now, they were most likely off very carefully producing hyper-intelligent, snarky, auburn-haired children in the best room the hotel had to offer. Natasha Romanov looked stunning in a black dress, downing shots with the surly Agent Barton at the bar. Unlike her, he was covered in plasters and his arm was in a sling. She hadn’t been entirely sure why he’d joined the party in the first place, but from the way those two seemed comfortable with each other’s silence, she was willing to bet they had History. Jane and Thor were chatting to Bruce, and she considered joining them. At least with Banner she wouldn't be the odd one out. Just as she had decided to get her ass out of the chair, she heard someone clear their throat. She looked up, and after a second or two of frantically flipping through her mental catalogue of Asgardians, something clicked.

“What’s up, Fandral?”

“Looking lovely as ever, Lady Darcy,” he said and held out his hand. As she extended hers, she realized far too late that he was bending down to press a kiss to it. By then, she was already halfway into a handshake, and the result was that she knuckle-punched him in the nose.

“Ooh, sorry,” she said, pulling her hand back. “I should have remembered that’s what you guys do. I’m not great with gentlemen.”

Fandral gave a strained smile and sat down in the chair next to her. “You have a fierce spirit, my lady. I like that in a woman.”

She coughed and reached for her drink. She’d been given the you’re-cute-when-you’re-angry speech once too many, and she wasn’t sure she liked the polite Asgardian version any better.

“You have visited Asgard,” said Fandral while gently probing his nose. “A favor bestowed on few mortals. A wondrous place, is it not?”

“Sure. Absolutely. Some serious management issues, but the rooms were quality.”

“Perhaps you will return one day, once all is well?”

Unbid, her gaze drifted across the room to where Loki was sitting. She didn’t fail to notice that he was staring right at her. A thrill went down her spine. “Isn’t it invitation only?” she said, and sipped her champagne.

“You would be my guest, Lady Darcy,” said Fandral smoothly and shuffled his chair a little closer. “Odin will not live forever… And failing that, I would be hard pressed to find a better excuse to visit Midgard again at the earliest opportunity.”

Darcy frowned and gave him a sidelong glance. She had vague memories of Fandral flirting with her in New Mexico. He was dashing, no doubt about that. Apparently he was also ready to dash off to the bedroom if she was any judge. 

Undeterred by her silence, Fandral leaned towards her. “This is quite a modest celebration compared to what I am used to. On Asgard, we feast for days after a victorious battle.” He took her hand in his and turned her arm up, then ran his fingers over the faint, blue veins there. “And while the blood runs hot, we make good use of it.”

She snatched her arm away. As pick-up lines went, she'd heard worse, but this was possibly the weirdest. For a split second, she was left speechless, and before she could form a retort, she felt someone looming next to her, then saw Fandral's eyes darken.

“Is he being a nuisance?”

It was impossible not to be awestruck, not to mention a little bit intimidated, by Sif in full armor. Darcy couldn't decide what was likely sharper; her cheekbones, the sword at her side, or the tone of her voice.

“Um,” said Darcy.

“Do you think so little of me–” Fandral began.

“I don’t think,” Sif interrupted him. “I _know_.” She turned to Darcy again. “Tell it true, Darcy Lewis.”

“I was just leaving anyway,” said Darcy and got to her feet. Glancing down at the seething Fandral she pursed her lips thoughtfully. “But since you’re asking... Yes. Yes he was.”

As she squeezed past Sif, she was caught in a throng of bewildered spa guests being ushered towards the reception area, presumably to be shipped off to some temporary quarters. From behind her, she could hear Fandral's desperate protestations as Sif dragged him away, and grinned to herself. The smile died quickly enough when the crowd passed and she realized that Jane and Thor were gone. In their place was Nick Fury, in deep conversation with Bruce. She was left standing in the middle of the room, chewing her lip uncertainly. Once more, she glanced over to Loki. He met her eyes, then got to his feet and left the room by a side entrance. Darcy wavered for a second, then followed.

She came out into the hallway just in time to see a door close at the other end of it. As she approached, she could see that it led out onto a large balcony. The gust of cold wind that greeted her as she stepped outside made her go stiff, but she braved both the gale and the six inch snow cover, stepping gingerly in Loki’s footprints to save her sneakers. He was standing some way away, looking out over the frozen lake. From somewhere, he had produced a huge fur cloak. It looked good on him, and she certainly had no problems believing he was an Asgardian prince, disinherited or not. Drawing her sweater tightly around her, she came to stand next to him. 

“I suppose you feel right at home here,” said Darcy, teeth already threatening to start clattering. “Winter solstice, five hours of daylight, four feet of snow…”

With the tiniest of sighs, Loki unclasped the cloak and held it out to her.

“Why, thank you,” she said and yanked it over her shoulders. It was very heavy, and felt warm with wear, even though that would have been impossible. _Magic_. “I guess if you’re cold you could just…” She waved her fingers and made a whooshing sound.

“I’m never cold, Darcy.”

She looked down on the cloak. It pooled around her feet, several inches too long and large enough to contain at least three Darcies. Or, failing that, both her and Loki. Where had _that_ come from? She shook her head and drew a deep breath, and the cold air made her nose prickle and sting. “Where’d you get this from anyway?” she asked, trying to push that not entirely unpleasant image of sharing a cloak out of her mind. “How much stuff can you carry around? Where do you keep it all? Or do you just randomly conjure things from thin air? Please tell me that a dozen silver foxes didn’t just find themselves skinned alive a few minutes ago.”

“You needn’t worry about the foxes,” said Loki, and she chose to believe him. He turned to her. “Do you really want to know how magic works?”

She thought about it. “No,” she said finally, and Loki smiled wryly. “You don’t seem very upset that your evil master plan to have Thor kill your dad failed,” said Darcy.

His smile froze for a fraction of a second, but the mischievous glance he gave her almost made her think she imagined his hesitation. “You presume to know me again,” he said.

“So now you’re saying that this was all part of some grander scheme? Nice try, but I’m not buying it.”

“Everything is part of the grander scheme,” said Loki.

His offhand voice suddenly made her furious. “I suppose New York was as well?”

For once, Loki didn’t seem to have a snappy retort ready. Instead, he looked at her for the longest time, and while he looked, the freezing night air cooled her blossoming cheeks. 

“Your years are short,” he said then. “Oh, I would be lying if I said a year to us is _shorter_ ; if I were to liken it to a heartbeat, or the blink of an eye. It’s not. Time passes no differently for me than it does for you, but life does. I have lived for more than a thousand years, Darcy. I’ve fought beside my brother countless times, killing enemies of Asgard without remorse or regret. He has done the same, only his tally is far greater than mine. No one has ever held that against _him_. I don’t expect you to understand how differently to you we have lived our lives.”

By the time he fell quiet, Darcy’s heart was beating hard again. “Understand what? That being immortal is an excuse for shitty behavior? That the more you kill, the less it matters? Understand _what_ , Loki?” He didn’t reply. Why was she even debating this with him? She blinked away a tear angrily. “And you’re wrong. I _do_ hold it against Thor, but at least he tries to do good now.”

“I don’t want to be excused,” he said, and when she drew a breath to protest, he held up a hand. “I don’t expect you to understand. Yet I am beginning to see why you don’t.”

She wiped her cheeks and thought about what that meant. She thought back to the girls playing in the gardens of Asgard, of the day she had spent watching him at court. She thought of Thor’s never-ending patience and trust. “Well,” she said finally. “That’s a start I suppose.”

Darcy barely had the time to see the kiss coming, and the initial shock was soon replaced by utter bewilderment that she wasn’t pulling away from it. Maybe she had drunk more than she realized, because right now, she couldn’t find any other logical explanation to why she wasn’t hightailing it back inside. 

“What are you doing?” she asked as he broke away from her lips. “There’s no need to play games anymore.”

Loki planted another kiss on the corner of her mouth, and yet another one low on her cheek. “Some games are played for enjoyment,” he said, breath ghosting over her skin. He slipped his hand under the furs, and she felt him trace the trimmings of her bra through her top.

“Oh god,” she groaned, feeling her skin prickle and her blood surging. She wanted badly to believe him, wanted to think that he really did have good in him, because she had no doubt he’d feel good in _her_. Throwing caution to the wind, she reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair, bunching it gently as the light touch of his lips sent her heart rushing. She felt him nudge her earlobe, felt him drag his teeth down her neck and stop at her collarbone to press a soft kiss there. By the time he caught her lips again, she could no longer ignore the pounding in her chest - or between her legs. If her brain was conflicted, her body certainly didn’t seem to be.

“You have a room here?” he asked, and she felt her belly turn nervously.

“What? I mean, why?”

“Because,” he said, and let his hand drop to her waist, fumbling with the top button of her jeans, “you’ll regret it for the rest of your life otherwise.”

Darcy opened her mouth to argue, but he was already brushing his fingers over her underwear, and the words turned into a gasp. And then he stopped. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but when his hand grew still, fingertips pressed firmly against the cotton over her clit, she almost laughed. She turned her face up to look at him.

“I don’t know how you do it in Asgard, but that’s not going to– oh.”

His hand was growing unnaturally warm, sending out subtle waves of heat that were pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Even though he was keeping perfectly still, the sensation building under his fingers was overwhelming. She gasped again and shuddered, dimly aware that he was steadying her with his free hand. The heat grew more and more intense until it was bordering on burning, and just as she thought she wouldn’t be able to take it much longer, Loki whispered a single word, and fire turned to ice.

“Fuck,” she said as she came, clinging desperately to his arm.

“Yes, let’s,” said Loki.

She felt his magic surround them, and the fur coat disappeared even as the magic barrier shut out the cold of winter. He grabbed her hand, and once more they stole through corridors unseen. As they passed the entrance to the dining hall, they met a group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents led by Maria Hill, seemingly on patrol. Loki stepped towards the wall, and as she tumbled after him, he caught her by the hip and pushed her against the wall.

“We could do it right here, you know,” he said, breath hot against her temple. He ran his hand up her side and to her breast. “No one would ever know.”

“Weirdo,” she said, although judging by the excited thrill in her stomach, she was nearly as weird herself. _Only nearly_ , she thought and led the way to her room once the agents had passed.

She left the lights off, but the snow reflected the stars, and the room was washed in blue and silver. She wondered if Loki would find it strange if she closed the curtains, then wondered why she wanted to. He grabbed her chin gently, making her turn her face to his.

“There is something about you, Darcy,” he said, eyes flitting across her face, down to her chest.

_Shut up_ , she thought. _Just shut up. I’m horny, you’re horny, that’s all there is to it. Don’t fuck it up with poetry_.

“It’s quite inexplicable,” he went on, so she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down into a kiss that left them both out of breath. He ran his fingers along her neck, then down her back where he with a quick twist of his fingers snapped her bra open, through her top and everything, making her yelp with surprise.

Loki laughed softly. “Midgardian undergarments provide such easy access,” he said, sneaking his hand under the cloth to caress the curve of her breast, exposed as it was with the bra hanging loose on her shoulders.

“Funny you should say that, considering what Jane told me about Thor,” she mumbled into his neck before running her fingers across the front of his pants, and Loki hissed as they flitted over the hardness of his cock.

“Thor is likely as incompetent a bedmate as he is hopeless at magic,” he said. “And you already know how I compare to him with regards to the latter…” 

Despite his shortcomings in the lingerie removal department, Darcy had Jane’s word that Thor was far from lacking in what followed, but now was hardly the time to bring that up. “Big talk,” she said, tugging at his shirt, neatly tucked into his slacks.

“I used to wonder what he saw in her.” Darcy’s hands fell still and she suppressed a sigh. “When he returned from Midgard, he was changed,” he went on, seemingly oblivious that he was coming dangerously close to spoiling the mood entirely. “Do you know how he made his case to me, after the aether had been vanquished? When he came to Odin, pleading to be rid of the throne? He told me that Jane Foster made him want to be a better man.” He made a disgusted noise.

“And you told him that you loved him, didn't you?” said Darcy. “Perhaps not in so many words, but…”

“I told him what he wanted to hear,” snapped Loki. 

They stood staring at one another, the air between them thick with tension. His shirt was still half-untucked, her bra had slipped down to wedge itself underneath her breasts, and the thought of celebrating Asgardian style was suddenly as distant as high summer was to Sweden. Loki blinked a couple of times, and she realized with a jolt in her chest that he was crying.

“I told him what he wanted to hear,” he said again, softly this time. “And I had to keep myself from laughing at his madness. These past few years, Thor's actions have seemed _inexplicable_. But I am beginning to see why, Darcy.”

He bent down to kiss her again, but the full width of what he was saying had hit her, and she drew back. Loki wasn't looking for post-combat indulgent sex at all. “I want you to leave,” she said. 

He frowned. “What?” he said after a moment or two.

“Jane isn’t Thor’s crutch. She’s made damn sure she’s not. And me? I'm not even a band-aid, Loki. I need you to go now.”

With a huff of laughter, he backed away, eyes suddenly hard and cold. “As you will.” He drew a sharp breath as if to say something else, but then simply shrugged before turning to stride out, leaving the door open behind him.

Darcy let out a shuddering sigh and sank down on the bed. That had been too close for comfort, and part of her was already regretting backing out. She let herself flop back, head hanging off the edge of the bed, and gazed at the upside-down nightscape outside the window. The new moon was up, a mere sliver of bright white against the star-sprinkled satin of the midwinter sky. After some time of silent arguing back and forth with herself, she felt her head beginning to pound and sat up, for a few seconds seeing stars of her own. Then she made up her mind, and with a determined sigh pushed off the bed, and stalked out into the corridor towards the room next door. She hesitated at the door, listening for sounds inside, but all was quiet, so she knocked. After a few seconds, she could hear shuffling and then the click of the lock. Thor opened, hair in disarray, one hand holding a cushion in front of him to cover his vital bits.

“Darcy,” he said politely. “Is something the matter?”

“I’m probably interrupting something, but… Would you mind staying next door tonight?” she asked. “I need to talk to Jane.”

Thor glanced longingly at Jane who was sitting in bed, clutching the sheets to her chest. She turned on the lamp above the bed, gave him a stern glare and waved a shooing motion with her hand. Thor sighed. “As you wish, ladies. Should your troubles resolve themselves earlier than expected, do not hesitate to wake me.”

Darcy went to stand by the window while Thor dressed. Not that she hadn’t seen it all before, but it still seemed the decent thing to do. Once he had left them in peace, she turned to Jane. She had pulled on a t-shirt and patted the bed where she was sitting, inviting Darcy to join her. 

“He’s just greedy,” said Jane and rolled her eyes. Darcy tried to squeeze out a smile in response, but Jane apparently saw through it. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Isn’t it hard, being with a god?”

Jane didn’t answer immediately, but studied her hands, picking absently at a nail. “Of course it is,” she said eventually. “You know Thor as well as I do.”

“I don’t,” said Darcy. “Not in _that_ way.”

Jane looked at her sharply. “Why do you want to know? What it’s like in that way, I mean.”

“Because…” said Darcy, then struggled to go on. She had rehearsed the start of this conversation in her head, but it wasn’t turning out at all like she’d expected.

“Did anything happen between you and Loki?” Jane asked then.

“What? No!” Darcy only realized it was a lie once she’d blurted it out. “Okay, no, _yes_ ,” she said quickly. “But only because I was trying to make him think I was on his side.”

“Did you… I mean, did he…?”

Darcy shook her head. “Nothing like that,” she said. The little incident half an hour ago hardly counted, right? “This is beside the point, though. Loki is nothing like Thor. Loki has… He’s done things.”

“He’s killed people,” said Jane. “A lot of people. But so has Thor. They may be different in many respects, but that’s not one of them.”

“He told you then?” Darcy suddenly felt very relieved. She’d been dreading telling her friend some of the things she had found out in Asgard.

“They come from a different reality. Literally _and_ figuratively. They’ve fought the kind of battles we saw last night for a thousand years, and even though I know he fights on the good side…”

“What’s the good side?” Darcy interrupted. “Who decides?” She bit her lip. Her tone sounded so harsh, but Jane simply gave her a lopsided smile.

“We do, of course. As long as we keep winning. But I know what you’re saying, and it’ll never be easy watching him knock someone’s brains out with that hammer.”

“How do you deal with that though?”

“I’ve got my work to distract me,” she said lightly. Then she turned serious. “And I like him. I’m not going to sit here and lie. I like him, despite what he’s done and because of what he’s doing now. You can’t have a day without a night, right? I like him, Darcy. I _love_ him.”

A little later, when they were curled up, back to back and waiting to go to sleep, Jane said, “He asked me to marry him.”

“ _Finally_ ,” said Darcy, then turned around and pushed herself up on her elbow. “What did you tell him? Yes or no?”

“I haven’t said anything yet. I need to give him an answer soon though. He’s asked me about fifty times in the last couple of days.”

Darcy sank back down, head already spinning with thoughts of ale fountains and Aesir dancing on tables. “You should totally say yes. It’ll be the party of a lifetime.”

“That’s kind of what I’m afraid of.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they all lived uncertainly ever after...? Well, sort of. This is _sort of_ the end. It's the end of The Main Plot, and in good Marvel tradition, Status Quo Is Maintained, but there will be an epilogue. It's already half written, and I promise it won't take me two and a half months to finish it.
> 
> Thank you everyone who is still reading this and cheering me on, and in particular my beta, [DaemonMeg](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DaemonMeg/pseuds/DaemonMeg) for sticking with me through thick and thin. If you're a fan of fairy tale style stories, check out her profile!


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the rating for this fic has changed. This epilogue is fairly shameless and gratuitous. I have no regrets.

She woke from a knock on the door. A quick glance at her phone told her that Jane was having another one of her six AM anxiety attacks. Either that, or she’d had a breakthrough in the lab. Possibly both. When she opened the door, the first thought that went through her head was that she was lucky that Tony Stark’s air conditioned villa required wearing at least a t-shirt to bed. The second one was _Damn, he still looks good_.

“So,” she said to Loki. “Only six months on Earth and you’ve already learned how to knock. Perhaps there is hope for you after all.”

She had only seen him once after Sweden, once he was released from whatever quarantine-like prison they kept him in for the first month. Without a word, he had restored her eyes to their vaguely blurry old selves. She had gone straight from Thor’s apartment to the eye clinic to have laser surgery, and it had been the best five grand she’d ever spent.

He had gone to Alaska after that, she knew. Some two hundred frost giants had decided that the sweltering heat of life above the Arctic circle was preferable to the leaderless chaos of Angerboda’s old halls, and Jane had helped negotiate a contract between S.H.I.E.L.D. and that one Jotun who she tentatively called ‘friend’. Darcy had no idea what they were doing up there, and once she understood that Loki was involved, she did her best to zone out whenever Jane mentioned it.

Most days, she could almost pretend it had all been a dream, pushing it out of mind as she went about her business in the lab. The actual dreams were worse - or better, depending on how you saw things. She had considered sleeping pills.

And here she was, face to face with him again. After all this time of only somewhat unsuccessfully ignoring what had almost happened, he had chosen today to knock on her door.

“Well, what do you want?” she asked. He’d cut his hair a little, she noticed as her gaze flitted across his lean frame. Was it absolutely necessary that he wore a suit?

“Thor is missing after last night,” said Loki.

Darcy’s eyes snapped back to his, and she was temporarily lost for words. “What do you mean missing?” she managed. “How can he be missing? He’s a god and a superhero and he’s getting married _tomorrow_. Are you sure he’s not just... I don't know. Taking a morning walk? Flight?” An awful thought struck her. _Did Norse gods get cold feet?_ “Has he gone off-realm?”

“No,” said Loki. “From what I understand, Volstagg supplied the bachelor party with ale from Alfheim and things got rather…”

“Alright,” interrupted Darcy. “All I know is that Tony was in charge, and honestly, that’s all anyone ever needs to know. Is _he_ back?”

“ _Mr. Stark is at home but indisposed_ ,” came JARVIS’s calm voice from the intercom.

“Eavesdropping is rude, Jeeves,” said Darcy. “I don’t care how indisposed he is, if Jane finds out Thor has gone walkabout she’s going to have a breakdown.” She turned to Loki. “I need to get dressed.”

“I could…” he said, raising his hand, then caught her eye, nodded and closed the door again.

Ten minutes later, they were in Stark’s lab, surveying the damage. It was mostly neurological, judging by the state of Thor’s friends. Tony was in his suit, sprawled on the sofa and moaning quietly. Steve Rogers was asleep on a beanbag, nursing a bucket with questionable contents. Clint Barton was snoring in a corner. Someone had drawn a mustache on him in sharpie, and he was wearing nothing but underpants. Neither Bruce Banner nor the Asgardian warriors were anywhere to be seen.

“Where are the three musketeers?” asked Darcy.

“They rode out not long ago to look for my brother.”

“They _rode out_?”

“Asgardians as a rule don’t drive,” said Loki. He looked around, a patronizing smile on his lips. “At least they were better off than this lot. The best part is through here, though,” he said, and motioned towards Tony’s private lab. As soon as they approached the doors, an alarm sounded.

“Turn it off!” shouted Tony, while Steve jerked awake.

“ _Sir, Loki does not have clearance. I strongly discourage-,_ ”

“I don’t care, turn it off!”

The alarm went silent just in time for them to hear Captain America noisily heaving stars and stripes into his bucket.

“Charming,” said Loki, then stood aside to let Darcy pass through the door.

Inside, a steady, humming noise could be heard. It was coming from a strange contraption in the middle of the room; a large sphere made from some see-through material where something was whirring around at such high speed that it was barely visible.

“What is that?” asked Darcy.

“Mjölnir,” said Loki.

“You’re joking.”

A clunking noise behind them announced the arrival of Tony Stark. “Technically, it started as a joke,” he said tiredly. “We thought it’d be unfair if Thor had his hammer _and_ his superhuman ability to hold his drink so Banner and I put together this little baby.”

“A Mjölnir centrifuge?”

Tony managed to almost look his normal unimpressed self. “It’s plastech coated with a hyper-repellant film,” he explained. “Essentially, it’s unbreakable from the inside, because nothing ever touches it.”

“How do you even make something like that? Wouldn’t the solutions just repel… Everything?”

Tony drew a breath as if to launch into a lecture on surface tension, then pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ll bet.” Darcy frowned. “It’s trying to get back to him, isn’t it?”

“It certainly looks like it,” said Loki.

“Why don’t you just release it?” asked Darcy, taking a step forward.

“That’s probably not a good idea,” said Loki warningly.

“Edward Cullen is right,” said Tony. “Mjölnir isn’t known for shying away from short cuts, and the straightest route to Vegas happens to go through things like furniture, walls, buildings, and Hollywood in general. Not to mention this lab and my personal bedroom in particular. Pepper already had it redecorated twice this year. She’d skin me alive.”

Darcy held up a hand. “Wait, Vegas? You left Thor in _Vegas_?”

“No one said anything about leaving anyone anywhere,” said Tony defensively. “But yes, that’s the last place anyone actually saw him as such… To be honest, I don’t even remember how we got back here. I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s Thor. He’ll be back.”

Darcy crossed her arms and glared at him. “Are you aware that we’re supposed to be leaving for New York tonight? And that Jane is wound tighter than a goddamn Tesla coil?”

“ _Sir, there are reports of massive thunderstorms gathering near Valley-Fire State Park in Nevada_.”

With her temples pounding in anger, she advanced, raising a finger warningly. “If she finds out you left her fiancé drunk and disoriented in the middle of the desert…”

“All right, all right,” said Tony, backing away from Darcy. “We’ll take a helicopter. Or a plane. Your pick.” He leaned against a table to steady himself. “As long as I don’t have to fly it.”

“Into a thunderstorm?” said Loki.

“No,” said Darcy, pushing past Tony. “He’s not going anywhere. He’s making sure Jane’s busy in the lab and doesn’t hear a word about this. We, on the other hand, are taking the Veyron.”

 

* * *

An hour later, they were firmly stuck in traffic on the I-10.

“I knew I should have taken the 210,” grumbled Darcy. 

“What exactly is the point of a car like this in a city like L.A?” asked Loki.

Darcy pulled a face, then turned on the radio. 

“… _And for commuters heading east, police in Pomona are still working on redirecting traffic to clear the way for what appears to be intoxicated renaissance fair visitors causing a major disruption. They are all on horseback and one of them is reportedly armed with an axe_ …”

“Goddammit, Volstagg,” she swore and switched it off again. 

They were crawling for another half hour, but once they turned onto the Mojave Freeway and left the city behind, the traffic cleared a little.

“Finally,” muttered Darcy and eased down the accelerator. The engine purred responsively, and the car shot forward. Loki gripped the edge of his seat and threw her a wary glance. “What’s the matter?” she asked as she sped across two lanes to avoid getting stuck behind a truck. “You’re practically immortal. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” He flinched a little as she criss-crossed between the cars.

“Aw, I’m touched.”

“Don’t be. I’m merely concerned that the California state police would disagree that the speed limit had been unexpectedly raised to double the usual.”

“JARVIS owed me one,” she said as the needle on the speedometer sailed smoothly towards 120. “No troopers on the I-15 today, and he’s monitoring the police radio just in case. This car has seven gears. I intend to use all of them.”

“ _Miss Lewis?_ ”

“What up Jeeves?”

“ _If it would be any help, I could arrange for a designated lane from Barstow onwards_.”

“JARVIS, you’re a star.”

Knowing that they would be able to make up time later, Darcy relaxed her right foot a little, letting the Bugatti slow down to a modest 80. Loki looked visibly relieved, sinking down into his seat. _Eyes on the road, Darcy, and not on the annoyingly attractive alien._ She looked mournfully at her manicured nails and wished she had something to chew.

“Why me?” she asked instead, voicing what had been on her mind for the past two hours.

“There are plenty of answers to that question, Darcy, but if you want one from me, you’ll have to be more precise.”

She grit her teeth. He _knew_ what she meant. “Why did you come to me this morning?”

“You were the logical choice. You know Thor, and Jane. And you trust me.”

She snorted something between a cough and a laugh. “Really? No. Just no.”

“And yet here you are.”

Darcy let her gaze flicker to him for a second. “You weren’t lying though. Your story checked out with Tony.”

“You never doubted it in the first place.”

“You’re deluded. I do not, have never, _will_ never trust you.”

“Then let me rephrase. You’re reasonable. You draw your own conclusions. Captain America, Iron Man… Do you think they would even as much as listen to me?”

“Your actions haven’t exactly inspired confidence in the past.”

“There’s mistrust, and then there’s pure stupidity,” said Loki. “I came to you because you’re smarter than they are.”

“Flattery will get you anywhere,” said Darcy drily, but she felt a blush threatening to creep up her neck.

“Anywhere? I’ll remember that. For now, Las Vegas will do.”

Her blush deepened, this time from flustered embarrassment. _Of course_. The main reason he had come to her was to get a chauffeur. She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just do that shadow-stepping thing?”

“I could do it. My brother could not. Besides, my use of magic has been severely restricted.”

“Restricted how?”

“I gave Thor my word.” She turned to stare at him. “Car,” he said, pointing ahead, and with an inch to spare, she overtook it on the hard shoulder.

“Your _word_?” she said. “Just how stupid is he?”

“A question I have asked myself for longer than I can remember.”

But Thor wasn’t stupid, she knew. And if she knew, Loki did as well. She smiled wryly. “And yet here you are.”

They looked at each other for a couple of seconds, and just as Loki’s mouth started pulling into a grin, JARVIS’S calm voice made her tear her gaze away and to the road again. “ _We’re approaching Barstow, Miss Lewis. I shall require another twenty minutes to clear a lane for you. May I suggest a coffee while you wait?_ ”

“JARVIS, have I ever told you you’re an absolute treasure?”

“ _Often and loudly, Miss Lewis. Take the next exit and follow my directions._ ”

 

* * *

The bakery was small, quaint and mostly empty. Darcy excused herself and went to the restroom, and when she returned, Loki had ordered. She sat down opposite him to coffee and a slice of strawberry tart, picked up the fork, and then paused. _Strawberry tart_. Carefully, she scooped a piece into her mouth and couldn’t help but think about the last time she’d had strawberry tart. In a forest. On Asgard. With Loki. And they had… She chewed vigorously, then sipped at her coffee.

“Good?” he asked.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. “It’s great.”

“I’m sure it’s adequate. Hardly Asgardian standard, but…”

_Oh God, he remembers as well_. “So,” she said loudly. “What have you been up to?”

He seemed to hesitate slightly before answering. “You still work with Jane Foster, do you not?”

“Yes?” Loki was watching her intently, his jaw set and tense. “What?” she said. “I’m not trying to pry any secrets from you, I’m just making conversation.”

He looked down at his coffee. “Of course. You know, then, that she is working with Heimdall on setting up a Bifrost mechanism.”

“Sure, yeah.” It made her tired, just thinking about it. “So much data,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Loki smiled briefly. “I’ll try to keep it to a minimum in the future.”

Darcy went cold. Jane hadn’t told her she was actually working with Loki. Then she went hot. Why hadn’t she told her? _Because I didn’t want her to talk about Loki, did I? Did I?_ Everything was suddenly very confusing. “Don’t worry about it,” she managed. “It pays the bills.”

“Other than that, I’ve been cleaning up after Thor,” said Loki lightly. “A Sisyphean task, as you would call it here on Earth.”

“What’s he done now?”

“You know Thor. He likes to leave loose ends, and this time it fell to me to round up ten black does from the forests of Alfheim, all because he made some rash promises back on Jotunheim.”

“Technically, anything Thor did on Jotunheim is your fault,” Darcy reminded him.

“Perhaps,” said Loki. “However, one might argue that he owes me much and more for numerous rash promises made in the past. Remind me sometime to tell you of the day when the walls of Asgard were built.”

“Why, what happened?”

“It’s too early in the morning for that sort of tale,” he said darkly. “Besides, we should be on our way.”

They both got their wallets out at the same time, and after a short but intense staring contest, Loki pocketed his while Darcy tucked a bill under her saucer. As they got up to leave, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

“Shit,” she said, looking at the preview of the text message. “Jane’s up.”

“Keys,” said Loki, holding a hand out.

“What?”

“Keys. Texting while driving is dangerous, not to mention illegal. I’ll drive and you can deal with Jane.”

The desert heat hit her like a wall as they stepped outside, and Darcy fumbled for words. “But... But you said you didn't drive!”

“I said no such thing.”

“You did. You clearly said ‘Asgardians don’t drive’.”

“Asgardians _as a rule_. Keys.” He extended his hand again just as they reached the car.

“I want to see your license,” said Darcy, crossing her arms.

Loki raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed, but fished his wallet out once more, flipped it open and held it out. She narrowed her eyes. It was a good fake. With a good picture.

“It says your name is Luke,” she said. “Also, it was issued two years ago.”

“It also says I’m thirty-three years old,” said Loki, snapping the wallet shut. “Trust me, I can drive.”

He could, as it turned out, which once again begged the question of ‘why her?’. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. While she frantically exercised some damage control via short message service, Loki steered them onto the road again, and once outside the city, they had an entire lane and a dead straight stretch of highway at their disposal. After a few minutes of nervous glancing at his lazy one-handed grip on the wheel, Darcy put her phone down and turned the stereo on.

“What is this?” said Loki in a disgusted voice after a couple of seconds.

Darcy leered at him. “It's Kanye West,” she said. “Good, isn’t it?”

“It is not _good_. It’s a bastardization of the fine work of Curtis Mayfield. It’s nothing short of a crime.”

She gave an incredulous laugh. “Okay then. I think they’re both good songs. What do you know about Curtis Mayfield anyway?”

“Alaska has nothing but ice, mountains and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s high speed internet,” said Loki. “Music makes for a pleasant distraction.”

“If last.fm was the best thing you found to keep you busy online, you haven’t been looking very hard.”

“Oh please. Tabs, Darcy, _tabs_.”

“Remind me not to look at your search history,” she muttered.

“I’m no stranger to the incognito window.”

“Loki, no.”

“You know, it’s often said that 37 percent of the internet is pornography, but that estimate seems exaggerated. I would put the number closer to 25.”

“Ew, gross!”

“It’s a lonely life above the arctic circle…”

“I don’t want to know!”

“...and disproving statistics has become a favorite pastime of mine.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. Loki snorted as well, then sighed and shook his head.

“What?” she asked.

He flashed her a lopsided smile. “Perhaps I should ask Jane for your services as an assistant. You’re better company than Jotuns. Not to mention Heimdall.”

“Did you miss me that much?” she said jokingly. But Loki didn't reply, and her own smile died on her lips as he looked away, focusing intently on the road ahead.

“I should apologize,” he said after a while.

“For what?”

“For a great many things. Holding you captive. Bringing you from Asgard against your will. Assuming I knew your heart.”

She nodded slowly. “All right,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“What do you mean?”

“Go ahead and apologize.”

He frowned. “I just did.”

“No you didn’t. You said you should. If you’re sorry, say you’re sorry.”

Loki threw her a weird look, drew a breath as if to say something, then hmmed, drumming his thumb on the steering wheel. “I'm sorry,” he said at length.

Darcy gave a mocking little gasp. “Do my ears deceive me?” she said, then reached out to lightly punch his shoulder. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Was it not? I think I can feel a rash developing.”

 

* * *

The thunderclouds were looming on the horizon several miles before they reached Las Vegas, and as the sky darkened, their moods turned sombre. Darcy looked out the window with mild interest as they passed Sin City, slowed down once again by other cars. She’d never been to Vegas, and whether it was the daylight, the lack of the filter of the silver screen, or that she could only see the back of the hotels, it looked tackier, older and more run down than she’d ever imagined it to be. As they drove on, the traffic thinned until they were the only car going north. The ones they met going south flashed their headlights in an attempt to get them to turn around, all of them grimy and brown, covered in some sort of dust.

“Sand,” said Darcy.

“Please tell me you didn’t only just notice that we’re in the desert.”

“No, the cars. They’re all covered in sand.”

“Then I suppose those aren’t just low clouds.”

A few miles down the road, the sandstorm hit them, and the visibility became so bad they nearly collided with an abandoned car that had been left in the middle of the road. Loki pulled them over, and for a while they sat watching the raging brown dust outside. There were flashes as well, flickering indistinctly ahead of them. _Thor_.

“Well, I had better get to it,” said Loki with a sigh and reached for the handle.

“Aren’t we going to wait it out?” Just then, her phone began bleeping.

“We don’t have the time. His tantrums can last for _weeks_.”

She peered out at the howling storm. “I don’t know if I’ll survive out there.”

“Let’s not attempt to find out,” said Loki and stepped outside, quickly slamming the door behind him. Seconds later, he was gone from view.

Darcy get her phone out and scrolled through the messages. “God damn it, Stark,” she muttered. “You had one job…”

Jane was in hysterics. As far as Darcy could tell, she had pried at least half the truth from Tony, and it wasn’t the half she’d preferred. Her thumbs hovering over the touch screen, she tried to think of a good lie. The phone bleeped again. A really good lie. Then the phone rang, and Darcy panicked and clicked it away.

And then, the storm died down. Slowly, the dust settled and the clouds dispersed. In the distance, she could see two figures, walking towards the car. Her phone rang again, and this time she picked it up and told Jane they were coming back.

 

* * *

The wedding was adorable. Of course it was. It was held in the Swedish consulate in Manhattan with a select few attending. According to the United States of America, Thor was still an alien, and technically not eligible for marriage. According to all five Nordic countries, Thor was most definitely human, even if he came with a ‘super’ affixed to him. That he had chosen the Swedish passport for this particular occasion had led to a diplomatic crisis between Stockholm and Oslo that had required a phone call from Hr. Odinson himself to resolve. 

Now, it was Midsummer’s Eve, the commissioner had a terrible accent, and Thor was winning her over by speaking some kind of Old Norse. In the chair next to Darcy sat the one person who could translate.

“What did he say?” she whispered to Loki.

“Hmm?”

“Thor. What did he say to the Swede?”

He sat up a little straighter. “Oh. I wasn’t paying attention. Judging from the smug look on his face it was something pompous and utterly unimportant.”

“I don’t think so,” mused Darcy quietly, looking at Thor. He in turn only had eyes for Jane. “I think it was something sweet.”

Loki snorted, and in the front row, Natasha Romanov turned around to glare at them.

The ceremony itself was over in minutes. Darcy signed her name neatly next to Tony Stark’s rockstar autograph on the documents, the commissioner read a poem in Swedish, and rings were exchanged. When Jane more or less climbed Thor like a tree in order to kiss him, Darcy had to dab at her eyes with a napkin that she had wisely tucked away up the sleeve of her jacket. She half expected Loki to make faces behind his brother’s back, but when she looked his way she found him watching her pensively, and something in her stomach did a strange little flip.

If the wedding had been modest, the party that followed was anything but. Apparently, what had come to pass two days ago was now long forgotten, and as the grand finale of the banquet, Thor happily smashed the tap off an enormous keg of mead, then proceeded to drink straight from the gushing jet that sprayed across the floor. As he wiped the foam from his beard, music struck up, and he swept Jane into his arms and spun her around before launching into a fast-paced, intricate dance which he seemed to be highly proficient in, and Jane less so. To the clapping and cheering of the rest of the party, they whirled round and round until Jane slipped over on the mead-soaked floor and collapsed in a fit of laughter. While she went to wash up, the party was served what remained of the mead, and when the band began playing a waltz, the floor gradually filled up with guests and their plus-ones. Thor came to stand next to Darcy.

“Would you kindly do me a favor, Darcy?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said and downed the last of the mead in her glass. It was strong stuff, and she already felt a pleasant buzz. She was ready to take on anything.

“Dance with my brother.”

Okay, almost anything. “…Loki?” she said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Have I any other brothers that you are aware of?”

She glanced over at him where he stood, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, eyes flitting alertly over the crowd. “I don't think he wants to,” she said.

“It pains me to see the only family I have here not enjoying himself at my wedding.”

“He doesn't strike me as the dancing type.”

“On the contrary. He’s an excellent dancer. Please, Darcy. For my sake?”

“Why me?” she whined.

“Who else? You sat with him at the ceremony, and at the table…”

“Whoever put the placement cards out was clearly new, I personally helped you with that part of the planning, and I did _not_ …” She trailed off as she realized it might not have been a mistake after all.

“He has taken a liking to you,” said Thor. “He speaks well of you.”

“Bullshit.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “As well as Loki would,” he said. 

She chewed her lip. “All right,” she said. “For you.”

Darcy made her way towards him, skirting around the dance floor. She still couldn’t get over his suit. Even here, in a sea of black, white and grey, he looked out of place somehow. 

“Hey,” she said, coming to stand next to him. There was plenty of space along this particular stretch of wall, and the reason was six foot three inches of Norse mythology of the less savory kind.

“Do you not dance?” he asked.

“You normally start by dancing with your date,” she said. She wasn’t sure whether she meant it to be an excuse or an invitation.

Loki raised an eyebrow and looked very much like he was about to fire off some snide remark, but then his gaze drifted aside for a second. “Come then,” he said suddenly, and set his hand in the small of her back to urge her onto the dance floor.

Glancing behind her, she could see Fandral, smoothing his jacket down and looking delightfully disappointed. Then Loki took a firm hold of her hand and hip and pulled her close until her body was flush against his. He began moving, and she almost tripped backwards over her own feet trying not to get trampled.

“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.

“Relax and follow,” he said, taking another step that made her shuffle back desperately.

“When you’re trying to walk through me?”

He sighed, then spread his fingers across her back, pressing her close again. “Do you feel my hip against yours? Good. Keep it that way. When I push, follow. When I step aside, follow. Imagine your hip is glued to mine. Stand on my feet if you must.”

“Do I look five years old?”

He ignored that, and Darcy was seething, but when he next moved, she followed. For the first minute or so she kept trying to preempt his movements, but after a sharp reminder from Loki she did nothing but concentrate on her hip, and all of a sudden, they were dancing. He gave the slightest of nods in approval, and she beamed back at him.

“I’m a quick learner,” she said loftily.

“And even quicker to congratulate yourself for even the smallest success.”

“Is your middle name Destroyer Of All Fun? Because it totally should be.”

“Names.”

“What?”

“Names. Destroyer Of All Fun is four words.”

“It could be a double barreled name. A quadruple barreled name.”

Bickering with him was too much fun. Before long, Darcy was grinning openly, and even the corner of Loki’s mouth was pulling a little. For a while, they danced in silence, and without the banter to keep her occupied, she started noticing things. Like the way others stared at them, and the way Loki ignored them. The way he still smelled like a crisp fall morning with a hint of snow on the wind, and the way she really didn’t mind being squashed against him for several minutes.

When the music died down, he stepped away and bowed his head politely before disappearing to his spot by the wall again. Darcy, however, was far from done with this evening. She danced, and danced, and then danced some more. She waltzed again, this time with Volstagg, whose hip was virtually nonexistent, and then with Thor, who laughed more than he led. She took a tour of the floor in some strange Midsummer conga with Sif and Natasha, and spent a considerable amount of time dancing smoothly away from Fandral.

It was well past midnight when her feet had finally decided that she either needed to drink a whole lot more, or have a sit down in order to make it through the night. In a fit of good character, she slumped down at an abandoned table with a glass of water and fanned herself with a silvery party hat. When Loki joined her a few moments later with a glass of wine, she was somehow not surprised.

“You’re still here,” she remarked.

“A show of goodwill,” he said in his most insincere voice.

“No,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “You’re here because you think you might benefit somehow.”

“Why does everyone always assume that I’m scheming?”

“Because you _are_ always scheming.”

“I simply plan ahead,” he said, then fished out a smartphone and quickly snapped a shot of Tony Stark, asleep in a chair in a highly unflattering position.

“What are you going to do with that?” she asked. “Sell it to the tabloids?”

“Like I said, I plan ahead.”

His mere presence made her peevish, and some urge made her reach out and grab at his leg, just as she had done that time in Asgard, invisible in Odin’s council room. Just like that time, Loki stiffened and shifted in his seat, and Darcy suppressed a snort. 

“Was there something you wanted?” he asked.

“Not really,” she said happily.

“Very well,” said Loki. He adjusted his position a little, slipping down into a comfortable slouch, legs spread in a way that seemed strangely inappropriate for a half-god at a wedding reception. He sat close enough for their legs to touch, and when he tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his knee, she couldn’t help but think about how they were just a few inches and three layers of satin away from her bare skin.

“Was there something _you_ wanted?” she asked.

Loki gave a shrug, took a sip of wine, and grimaced. “My brother is married and looking revoltingly happy about it. I would be glad for a distraction.”

“So you came to me.”

“I enjoy your company,” he said. 

She huffed. “Are you drunk?”

“On this?” he asked, motioning at the glass in front of him. “Not before I die from water poisoning. It was an honest compliment, Darcy.”

For a while, she sat in stunned silence, trying to process that information. It felt as though the past two days had led up to this point; the strawberry tart, the bantering, the dance… Heart pounding hard in her chest, she leaned forward, casually resting one arm on the table in front of them. She let her other hand drop down to her knee, and brushed her fingers against his. He went tense, and for a second she felt herself panicking before he moved his hand to gently stroke the inside of her wrist. Darcy swallowed hard and looked around the room. No one seemed aware that there was anything out of the ordinary going on under the tablecloth. Clint Barton was drunk and dancing less than gracefully on his own. She let her fingers slide over his, hooking them briefly and then releasing them again. Over at the bar, Bruce Banner and Steve Rogers were engrossed in conversation while Pepper Potts and Banner's date - _Bessie? Beth? Something like that_ \- had taken up store behind the bar, and were mixing drinks for off-duty S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Loki carefully intertwined their hands, then let his fingers slide slowly back and forth between hers. For some reason, it felt insanely erotic, and Darcy realized her mouth had fallen open, and quickly snapped it shut. Her eyes wandered on to Jane and Thor, and she froze. Jane was looking right at her with a slight frown. Just as she was about to pull her hand away, Loki began gently rubbing the soft skin between her fingers, and she had to bite her lip not to gasp out loud. Masking her reaction with a slight cough, she raised her other hand and waved uncertainly at Jane who waved back slowly before shrugging and turning back to Thor. Darcy risked a glance at Loki. He looked perfectly calm, bordering on bored, but under the table, his hand was splayed across hers, fingers digging softly into her leg through the dress.

An utterly ridiculous idea struck her, and for some reason, she acted on it. “I’m going to leave now,” she said. “If you want to, wait a few minutes and then…”

“Go.”

Darcy stood up and made for a pair of double doors, avoiding Jane’s eyes and trying her best to look like someone on her way to powder her nose. Luck had it that there was a bathroom in the hallway beyond, and she slipped inside. She looked in the mirror and tucked away a stray lock of hair, then pulled the bodice of her dress up a little before drawing a deep breath and heading out into the corridor again. Not far away, there was a door in an alcove, half-hidden in the shadows. She hurried over to it and leaned against the cool, smooth wood, trying to still her frantic heart. She glanced over to the entrance to the banquet hall, and moments later he appeared, so she stepped out into the dim light of the hallway. His eyes flashed darkly when he saw her, and before she knew it, he had her pinned against the door, kissing her roughly. The small, shivering flame that she’d tried so hard to suffocate suddenly flared hot in her belly. Almost instinctively, she reached down, dragging her fingers across his hip and down, letting them glide over the smooth fabric of his pants. She could feel his lips pull into a smile, felt him take her hand to press it against his erection. He moaned into her mouth, then ran his hands over the silky fabric of her dress, down the small of her back and further to grab at her asscheeks.

“What’s in here?” she said and fumbled behind her for the handle, which rattled unyieldingly. “Never mind, it’s locked.”

Loki reached for it, whispered a strange word and smiled. “Try now.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to use magic,” said Darcy as they stumbled through into the dark room beyond, still tangled together.

“I’ll take my chances,” said Loki and kicked the door shut.

It was some sort of storage room. Unused folding chairs lined the walls, and a few of the tables used at the banquet had been hastily put aside here. Darcy backed into one of them, and Loki reached around her to sweep a bundle of tangled streamers and a couple of empty plastic cups to the floor, then lifted her with ease, perched her on the edge of the table and kissed her again. She hooked her leg around his to pull him closer, but instead he grabbed it and raised it to his lips, then half kissed, half bit into her calf, all while running his hand down her thigh, pushing the skirts aside. She arched herself off the table to let him pull her panties off, then reached forward to grapple with his belt and zipper.

“Wait,” he breathed.

“What.” Pushing down the waistband of his boxers, she spared a brief, bewildered thought for the impossibly ridiculous fact that Loki had, at some point, been shopping for normal underwear, and freed his cock. She edged forward until she could nudge it against her clit, making herself jump from the sensation. 

“Are you sure?” he said.

“Shut up and get in me, will you,” she said, pressing against his hardness until he finally obliged.

She let out an undignified moan as he pushed inside her, and from then on, any pretense of finesse went out the window. Loki fumbled with her breasts like a horny teen while she pulled ineffectually at his shirt, trying to yank him closer. She had a feeling he was trying to be careful, and worried fleetingly about superhuman thrust power until he distracted her by moving his hand between them. With desperate, erratic motions he worked her clit, the occasional buzz of magic that seemed to slip through by accident making her jerk under his fingers. 

“Don't worry about it,” she said, pushing his hand away. She sank down on her elbows, raised her knees to his sides and drove her hips up hard, drawing a strangled grunt from him.

“Darcy,” he said, an almost pleading look in his eyes.

“I said don’t worry about it.”

He cursed and grabbed a hold of her legs, and for the best part of two minutes, he fucked her like a god before shuddering inside her with a drawn-out groan. 

“Wow,” said Darcy as he slumped over her. “That was intense.”

Loki shook his head, forehead resting on her shoulder. “No,” he said, breathing hard. “That was pitiful.”

She couldn’t help but snort a giggle. Loki snapped his head up and gave her a look so hurt that she bit her lip. Still, that didn’t stop her shoulders from shaking with the laughter that was bubbling up inside her. In the dim light she thought she could make out a faint flush on his cheeks, but then the corner of his mouth twitched, and suddenly they were both laughing. 

“You’ll just have to owe me,” said Darcy as he pulled her up and onto the floor. She straightened her skirts, then looked around for her panties.

Loki handed her a fresh pair that weren’t the same she’d been wearing before. They looked distinctly Asgardian. She stared at them for a couple of seconds, then shrugged and yanked them on to stop the sticky trickle down the inside of her thighs.

“I’m not overly fond of debts,” he said, picking at some invisible speck of dust on his shirt sleeve, “and this one I’d prefer to settle sooner rather than later.

“It was a joke,” she said, pulling her fingers through her tangled hair. How was he already looking practically impeccable again?

“Yes it was,” he said. “I believe the appropriate question is ‘my place or yours?’”

 

* * *

Loki wasn’t there when she woke. She knew as soon as she drifted into consciousness. It wasn’t just the lack of his bodyweight pulling her towards the middle of the mattress, but a distinct feeling of emptiness in her entire flat. Well, what had she expected? She would have done the same, and really, she could count herself lucky that she hadn’t had to do the sneaking out this time. Besides, the night had been… awkward. No debts paid as such. There had been wine, and talking, and eventually sleeping. Oddly enough, it felt like the best sleep she’d had in years. After a long glance out the window, she sighed at herself for being silly, grabbed her favorite towel where it hung from the back of her desk chair, then headed for the bathroom.

Some ten minutes into her well-deserved shower she started wondering at what point someone (likely Tony Stark) had replaced her lily-of-the-valley creme soap with bacon-scented body wash, then realized that she could actually smell something cooking. She rinsed off quickly, wrapped the towel around her hair and pulled on panties and a tank top, then ventured into the kitchen. Against all reason, Loki was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Against all reason, he was frying bacon. It was quite possibly the first time that pan had seen food. Loki glanced over at her.

“There was a distinct lack of breakfast meats in your fridge,” he said, as if it would explain things.

Then she suddenly remembered a morning in New Mexico - one those first days of the rest of her life. It seemed like ages ago now, but yes, she definitely recalled that somewhere between parading his abs around the kitchen, eating a week’s supply of pop tarts and stealing Jane’s heart, Thor had made them all breakfast. Perhaps it was an Asgardian thing. She sat down at the table, unwrapped the towel to shake out her damp hair, and watched him work. The strangely comfortable silence was broken by the buzzing of her mobile phone on the sideboard. Darcy went to snatch it up, not in the slightest surprised at the name on the screen.

“How many times, Thor?” she said. “It’s texts only before 11 on a weekend.”

“ _It's half past noon._ ”

She glanced at the microwave and mentally adjusted the time four hours (and once again told herself to set it properly before another power cut confused things even further). “So it is,” she conceded.

“ _I have to ask…_ ” Thor hesitated, and Darcy could tell what was coming from a mile away.

"Yes, he’s here,” she said. “Do you want to talk to him?”

“ _No_ ,” said Thor, managing to sound both relieved and concerned at the same time. “ _We have business to attend to, but it’s not urgent_.”

“I’m sure he’ll be along soon. After he finishes his breakfast meats.”

“I need two hours,” said Loki without turning around.

“Two hours, apparently.”

“ _I heard him. Darcy, are you well?_ ”

She thought about it. “All things considering, I’m great. Thanks for asking.”

As she clicked away the call, Loki set two plates down on the table. Crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, toast with apricot jam and fried tomatoes crowded them, and for a second she felt as though she was back in London, around the corner from their house at the greasy spoon café that served breakfast from dawn til dusk. They ate in silence, and he wore an amused half-smile on his lips that was equally unnerving and devastatingly attractive.

“Thank you for making me breakfast,” she said as they stood side by side, she washing the dishes and he rinsing them off and placing them in the draining tray.

“I made _me_ breakfast,” he said. “Chance had it that you woke, and even a prince must share when he is guest in another house.”

Darcy rolled her eyes at him, and he grinned. “What are you doing before meeting Thor for intergalactic adventure time?” she asked.

He stepped close and slipped his arms around her, grabbed a hold of her ass and lifted her on to the countertop. “Resolving an outstanding debt.”

Using magic was _cheating_ , Darcy decided as he bent down to bury his face between her thighs and drag his teeth over her panties. A shock of energy shot through her, wickedly pleasant and powerful. It was also overwhelming and unexpected, and it made her grab a fistful of his hair and jerk him away.

“What?” he said and looked up at her with a frown.

“I just… I wasn’t prepared for that.” She untangled her fingers from his dark tresses, and he stood again. 

“Prepared for what?”

“Bzzz,” she said, motioning with her hand. “Do you even have sex without the special effects? Ever?”

“It’s who I am,” said Loki. “Why would I?”

“You should try it,” said Darcy. “Hard mode. No cheat codes.”

“Then you should show me,” he said.

She could feel the pulse in her temples, felt her hand shake slightly as she reached up to push his hair aside, then leaned in and kissed him. Here, in her messy kitchen, in the stark light of day, he was so real. Too real. When she parted her lips, he followed suit, and his tongue brushed lightly against hers. He tasted of salt and orange juice and guilty pleasure, but by now, reason was being shoved into a deep and dark corner of her brain by choice parts of the limbic system. She dug her fingers in his hair and deepened the kiss, and although Loki was responsive enough, he felt strangely passive, his hands resting on her thighs.

“It’s okay to touch,” she said.

For a moment he looked annoyed, but then he began moving his hands, tracing circles on her legs with his thumbs. He bent down to bury his face in her hair and mumbled something she couldn't quite catch, but the way his lips brushed against her neck made her skin prickle. She leaned into him, turning the light touch into something more, something that drew a shuddering sigh from her. As if a dam had broken, his hands suddenly found their way under her top, dancing over her back, swiping trails along her ribs, cupping her breasts, fingers fluttering over her nipples until they stiffened. She grabbed his hands and shoved them against her chest, making him squeeze her breasts gently, pushing and massaging until she moaned out loud.

He let his hands travel down to her panties to tug and tease and grab at her asscheeks while he kissed her again. Then he pulled away, raised a hand and trailed two fingers along her bottom lip. Almost instinctively, she opened her mouth and caught them between her lips. Loki paused and gave a short laugh. She bit down at his fingers lightly and smiled, then sucked the tips further into her mouth. He gasped quietly and watched, lips slightly parted, as she slowly took the full length of them into her mouth. She let her tongue swirl lazily around them, and his hips jerked forward slightly. Edging her leg between his, she rubbed her shin against his hardon, all while sucking at his fingers. Loki closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly, for a few moments indulging in her ministrations. Then he grinned, shook his head and looked at her again.

“Now, now,” he said. “This was supposed to be about you.”

He pulled his hand away from her mouth, and swiftly eased his fingers down her panties. Still wet, they found her clit and began tracing gentle circles around it. This time, there were no sparks, and his touch was so light that she almost felt like pressing her hand down on his to get the friction she longed for, but she bit her lip and resisted. She was used to guys rubbing just about any part down there as vigorously as possible, and this was a– She whimpered and dug her nails into his arm as his fingers flitted over her clit once more. This was a pleasant change.

Looking into his eyes was still a little bit too freaky, so she closed hers and imagined them instead. Slowly, a pressure began building inside her. Sighs and gasps of pleasure came closer and closer until she was breathing them without pause, and his touch was still infuriatingly light, and it seemed that instead of meeting her mounting need, he began slowing down. She wanted to press against him, but when she moved her hips, his hand drew back, the other one moving to clamp down on her thigh. Then she opened her eyes to look at him. He was smiling. With a frustrated moan, she jerked towards him again, but he held her firmly down. God, she was close. If only… She reached down, but a stern look from Loki stopped her from actually following through.

“You're killing me,” she groaned.

“Don't exaggerate,” said Loki calmly.

“You know what I mean. Just... Just…”

He tutted, keeping up that same relentless, featherlight stroke with his fingers. They brushed over her clit again and she cried out. She felt her thighs tense up involuntarily, and knew she had reached that sudden point of no return. That touch was all she needed now; any touch, no matter how fleeting or light.

And then he stopped. Just like that, his fingers were gone.

“No, don’t,” she said, fumbling for his arm, but he distracted her with a kiss, then pulled her closer and lifted her up. He carried her towards the bedroom, and when she ground against his belt buckle with every step, it was almost enough to push her over the edge.

“Was that sufficient evidence that I can hold my own without magic?” he asked as he put her down on the bed.

“Does it look like it?” she said, scrambling backwards to make space. Furiously, she wrestled with her top to get it over her head. “I’ve never been left more _not_ satisfied.”

“Damn,” said Loki, knelt between her legs, and started pulling her panties down. “I guess I shall have to try harder.”

“Why are you even still dressed? I would have thought– Holy _shit_.”

Instead of replying, Loki had simply bent down and put his mouth on her, his tongue cool and soft against her hot folds and tender pearl as he kissed her there. He hmmed contentedly, then he raised his head to look at her.

“I owe you,” he said. “What _I_ wear is of little consequence.”

“Yeah, but I really wouldn't mind actually…”

“There’ll be time for that, too.”

She sighed as he bent down again, then winced as he swirled his tongue over that sensitive bundle of nerves. Seconds later, she was already grabbing at the sheets. Fuck, he was good. He licked her with slow, firm, purposeful strokes, and while she now had the pressure she wanted, she was soon going crazy at his leisurely pace. Each time his tongue reached the top of her lips and dragged over her clit, she felt her blood surge. Each time, she prayed he would just stay there, maybe suck a little, maybe flick the tip of his tongue just so. And yet, with every deliberate stroke, she came closer and closer to coming undone, until she arched her hips towards him and, _and_ … The feeling of disappointment and frustration as he sat back and wiped his chin on the back of his hand was devastating.

“Why?” she yowled, slapping her hands down on the mattress. 

“Was that better?” he asked. 

Darcy’s cheeks were burning up, and she wasn’t sure whether she was more angry or horny. “Either you stop teasing, or I’ll take care of myself,” she said.

“I just feel so inadequate, not using my full array of tricks,” said Loki innocently.

“You could magic away those clothes,” she suggested.

“No, because that would be cheating, wouldn’t it?”

He stood back and casually pulled his t-shirt off, revealing a more muscular torso than she had expected, but still lean and angular, and without an inch of fat on it. With a growl, she sat up and tugged at his belt until it unbuckled, then pulled at the buttons until they came apart, but before she could do anything else, he swept her hands away. Like hot, white lightning, a burst of anger shot through her chest and down her arms. 

“Fine,” she said, shoving at him to push him away. He barely shifted an inch. She shoved again, with all her might. No result, other than the grin on his face widening. “Ugh!” she said, then turned her back to him, arms crossed and trembling with rage and stupid, pent-up desire. 

“This would be so much simpler if you just let me do it my way,” he said, and brushed a finger along her shoulder. The touch was humming with magic.

“You were doing great. Until you stopped. _Twice_.”

She felt him kneel behind her, felt his hands on her hips. When one of them came up to cup at a breast, and the other traveled down her belly, she felt sparks across her skin, and couldn’t help but tip her head back against his chest. He edged closer, and when she felt something hard brush against her back, she realized he had magicked away his jeans after all. Instinctively, she pressed her ass up against his cock.

“Can I–,” he started as he brushed his fingers over her clit.

“Yes,” she said empathically, and he laughed quietly into the crook of her neck.

“Will you let me do this my way?”

“I don’t care, just do _something_.”

He shifted underneath her, and then pushed into her.

“Jesus Christ,” she gasped, fumbling behind her until she could grab at his hair.

“Wrong pantheon,” said Loki.

She slammed her other hand down on his, forcing him to rub rather than tease. “Oh my _god_ ,” she said as he finally, _finally_ gave her what she wanted.

“Yes, that I can live with,” said Loki, and let loose his magic.

 

* * *

An hour or so later, she was drifting off to sleep. She would come to regret this. That much was for sure. She’d always been demanding in bed, and Loki had just raised the bar for everyone else by miles. The bed sagged suddenly, and she opened her eyes to look up at him. He was fiddling with something, and curiosity drove her to sit up and peer over his shoulder. It was the bracelet he had made in Asgard. It was still eerily beautiful, the black and brown strands of hair once again shimmering with that particular luster that marked it as magical, almost alive.

“You left this in the Gullviðr,” he said.

She frowned. “I don't remember leaving it. I must have dropped it.”

He seemed about to say something, then turned away for a moment, giving an exasperated sigh. “You do know this is a virtually invaluable gift?”

“Yeah, you keep telling me. It was creepy as hell, though. I couldn't take it off.”

“It won’t do that anymore.” He held it out. “Wear it and I will know. Should you ever wish to…” He raised a suggestive eyebrow.

“Oh my God, Loki,” she said. “Can't you just give me your number like a normal person?”

“You can have that, too.”

Darcy threw her head down on the pillow and groaned, then spent a few seconds staring at the ceiling, seriously contemplating it. She glanced back at him. His face was unreadable now, but she remembered damn well what he’d looked like half an hour earlier, bucking underneath her. She sat back up again. “All right.”

“Very well.” He grabbed her dream diary from the bedside table, turned to the last page and magicked forth a pen. A leftie, she noted, watching as he scribbled down a cell phone number in a fluid, effortlessly elegant hand.

“Leifr was right-handed,” she said, remembering that afternoon in Asgard with acute clarity. His handwriting had been different, too.

“Observant as ever,” he said and closed the book. “I am a shapeshifter. I am who I choose to be.”

“Aren’t we all?” said Darcy.

He looked at her levelly for a second or two, then rose from the bed. “I’ll leave this for you to do with what you will,” he said and placed the bracelet on the diary.

“Thanks, I suppose. Maybe I’ll try and sell it, what with it being invaluable and all.” Loki froze, a horrified look on his face, causing Darcy to laugh out loud. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll keep the black magic bond bangle safe. Although it could do with a bit of functionality. Like Google maps, SnapChat, some sort of basic text messaging service at least. A Skype app maybe. A pop-up keyboard would be nice…”

Loki smiled. “Old-fashioned though it may be, it outperforms all Midgardian gadgets in one area.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Five-bar reception from the fires of Muspelheim to Tokyo, Japan,” he said and grinned.

For once, he had the decency to leave by the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I set out to write a fic for one of my favourite MCU ships, but where the women got to shine instead of the men. In the words of Tony Stark: I think I did okay. 
> 
> If you liked this fic, or have other comments, you're very welcome to leave a review. I hope you enjoyed it - I certainly enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much [DaemonMeg](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DaemonMeg/pseuds/DaemonMeg) for working tirelessly with me on this for eight long months.


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